


Talk Me Down

by SylvieW



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale pack, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, But Please Don't Hate Them Too Much, Derek's Family are Meanies, M/M, Magic Stiles, Past Kate Argent Trauma, Reconciliation, Tattooed Stiles, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:28:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6297130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvieW/pseuds/SylvieW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Hale family narrowly escapes the fire, Derek moves to New York to escape their lingering resentment. There, he meets Stiles, and feels an instant connection to him, but their relationship, and Derek’s self worth is tested by the hurdles Derek’s pack throws at them</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the [Troye Sivan song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lo3lxS-6joY) of the same name.  
> Also, I wanted to mention that the wedding tagged is not Stiles’ and Derek’s, just so no one is disappointed when they get there.

Prologue

Derek sat on the floor in the middle of the empty industrial loft. It had no furniture, bare walls and the kitchen was virtually nonexistent, but to Derek it felt like a palace. The cramped floor space forced him to sit cross-legged and he was surrounded by a mountain of boxes, but he was the happiest he had been in five years.

This loft wasn't just an investment as Derek had claimed, it was a haven. New York put a whole country between him and his family, with their sharp verbal barbs and disappointed glares. He had already finished three years at NYU away from them, but this time, with the loft, there was no annoying roommate to hide from and no summer break at home to dread.

He was under no illusions that his family wouldn’t find ways to mess with him from afar. He could handle that, as long as he could complain about it bitterly as soon as he hung up the phone. There was no need to grin and bear it if there was no one around to lecture him on the importance of supporting your pack.

Derek dropped onto his back, envisioning all the plans he had for the high ceilings and exposed brick. He could focus his energy into renovating the loft and try to appreciate his pack from a distance, his pack bond buzzing quietly in the background.

Absence made the heart grow fonder, right? Maybe when he next visited, they wouldn’t hate him so much.

Probably not.

Chapter 1

The antique bell jingled over the shop door. Today it had gotten a good workout, with a steady stream of customers walking under it. Stiles was pleasantly surprised that after only a few months of having an official storefront, their client base had grown enough that he could consider them busy on a Tuesday afternoon. Then again, Lydia had said they would be, and when was she ever wrong?

The latest customer didn't waste time browsing, just came straight up to Stiles’ mahogany counter. Stiles looked up from his inventory order, and did a double take. Holy shit, this guy was hot. Also vaguely pissed off. Mostly hot though. “Hey, can I help you with something?” Stiles asked, trying to get some politeness points on his side so whatever was pissing this guy off wouldn’t be considered Stiles’ fault. 

“Do you have any camsue? It's a plant.” The guy ground out the words like it was painful for him.

Stiles racked his brain. Plants and herbs were some of his specialties, but he’d never heard of this one before. “Huh. Let me double check.” He pulled up his inventory database and found nothing, even when the guy pulled out a crumpled paper and spelled it for him. “Maybe I can order it for you.”

A look through his database of known vegetation found nothing there either. Finally he consulted google, with still no results. “Hmm, I got nothing. I do have kansui root, though. Are you sure it's not that?”

The guy scowled harder and opened his mouth like he was about to tear a strip off of Stiles for even suggesting it. He stopped though, huffed, then mumbled, “One second,” and pulled out his phone. Whoever he called picked up quickly. “Aunt Celia, are you sure you gave me the right name? Yes, I did write it down. No, I spelled it like you told me. I know. Yes, I know. Aunt Celia, I’ve been to five stores so far and no one has heard of it. Can you--Can you just listen for a second? Are you sure it's camsue and not kansui root? Ah. I see. Kansui. Right. I need to go now. Bye. Goodbye, Aunt Celia.”

“Kansui root?” Stiles confirmed. When the guy nodded, he fistpumped. He loved solving people's puzzles, even simple ones like latin mix ups. “That I can do.”

The guy nodded shortly. He didn’t look up at Stiles, just stared down at the counter top, scowling hard, his hands flexing at his side. The more Stiles watched him, the more it looked kinda familiar. Then it hit him. The guy looked like Scott did, when Scott was trying really hard not to wolf out and savage innocent people. “You okay, dude?”

“Don’t call me dude,” the guy growled. There was literal growling. The bell over the door gave another cheerful jingle and a gaggle of giggling young girls wandered in. The guy winced at the sound of their high timbre voices, and clenched his fists tighter.

“Do you want to come in the back for a minute?” Stiles asked. He wasn’t super keen on letting strangers into the inner sanctum of his shop, but it was better to have the guy contained there than go apeshit in front of some mundane kids.

The guy stood rigid for a second, and Stiles was concerned he would refuse. He was about to insist when the guy gave his short nod again. Stiles quickly lifted the barrier and led the guy through the curtain behind him. Stiles guided him over to a stool by the work table. “Can I get you anything? Water? Lavender?”

“Lavender?” The guy ground out.

“It's considered one of the most calming herbs.” The guy shook his head. They stood awkwardly for a minute, Stiles shifting from foot to foot. “Do you need to pop a claw or something? Relieve the pressure?”

The guy looked a bit startled, and extremely wary. Stiles was going to put him at ease, but the service bell on the counter dinged. “Shit, I have to get that. Just stay here a minute.” He moved for the door then spun back around. “Don’t go in that corner there okay? Just...Don’t.” He waited for the guy to nod again before heading out to deal with his customers.

***

Derek sat in the back of the store, attempting to regain his control. He tried to focus on his anger, pulling it around him like a safety blanket, but it wasn't working. He wasn’t just angry, he was sad and frustrated and he felt stupid and unappreciated. 

He’d had such wonderful plans for his Tuesday. He was going to sand the floors on the main floor apartment of his second building, then take a bath with a book. It might not have been what most people would call a good day but it was his and now it was ruined. 

He almost wished he hadn’t answered his phone that morning, but he knew if he didn’t pick up, his aunt would just sic his mother on him.

It still amazed him that from miles and miles away, his family still found ways to fuck with him. This wasn't the first wild goose chase he had been sent on, by any means, and would most likely not be the last. It should have been simple. Go to a store that carried plants and herbs. Get the plant. Mail it to Aunt Celia. Instead, he had been to five different stores, growing more agitated as store clerk after store clerk looked at him like he was some kind of idiot. No wonder, if he’d been asking them for a plant that didn't exist. 

His mouth was prickling from the need to drop his fangs so much it hurt, and his fingers were starting to cramp. He didn’t want to let himself shift because he wasn't sure how long it would take to calm down enough to shift back.

He closed his eyes and focused on his other senses. The shop was filled with the different scents of plants, herbs, rocks and magic. Underneath it all was the smell of the shopkeeper. It was a pleasant smell, with strong tones of citrus and honey and undercurrents of spice. There was he short-term smells of potatoes, oil, and bacon. Laundry detergent and paper came through as well and the faint smell of blood and ink, like somewhere under the guy’s layers of clothing he had a new tattoo.

The shopkeeper’s voice filtered through the curtain. Derek could hear the customers as well, but he focused on the clerk's lilting tenor as he chatted with them, answering questions and ringing up their purchases. He laughed at something, clear and bright, and Derek wanted to see it. See if he threw back his head, or leaned forward. See him smile, be the source of the laugh himself.

The customers finished their transaction and left the shop. Derek listened to the shopkeeper come back through the curtain, and opened eyes that had grown heavy. He had his shifting under control, but he was absolutely exhausted from the effort.

“Feeling better? How about some tea?” The guy asked. Derek nodded. He wasn’t big on tea, but it would be warm, and he didn’t want to move yet. “I’m Stiles, by the way.” Stiles plugged in a kettle at the work table, and picked a few jars off a shelf.

“Derek,” he replied, watching Stiles’ long fingers take pinches of different ingredients and put them together. He scooped some of the mixture into a tea infuser, then tossed it in a mug and poured in the water. He offered Derek milk and sugar, then added both when Derek agreed.

Derek wrapped his hands around the cup and sniffed cautiously. It smelled pleasant. Mellow enough not to harp on his werewolf senses. He sipped and the smell carried through to the flavour. Mild, but not weak. Stiles took his own cup and sat on one of the other stools.

“What's in the corner?” Derek asked.

“Different types of wolfsbane and mistletoe, mostly.” Stiles shrugged as Derek frowned. “It's handy for a lot of different things, and most of the varieties I have aren't even that dangerous. But I prefer to keep it under wraps, in case I get a visit from the lupine inclined.” He winked at Derek. His heart was steady, and he clearly didn’t care that he’d just told a werewolf he was harbouring poisonous substances.

“Does that happen a lot?” Derek asked. Stiles looked at him quizzically, so he elaborated. “Visits from the lupine inclined?”

“Sometimes. I have a strain of wolfsbane that can be used to feel the effects of alcohol. I get a lot of college kids in for that. Otherwise, it’s mostly my friend Scott. He’s in California, so he’s only been here once, but you’d better believe he made a beeline for the wolfsbane by accident and nearly poisoned himself. There was vomit, it was bad. Lydia wanted to ban him from the whole store, but I talked her around. We established the corner of doom so he wouldn’t get into too much trouble.”

“California?”

Stiles nodded. “That's where I’m from. Came here for school. I graduated this year, but decided to stick around.”

“Me too.” Derek took another sip of his tea and was disappointed to find he had finished it. 

Stiles downed his own cup and hopped off the stool. “So, did you need dried or fresh?”

Derek growled a bit. “I have no idea.” Dried might go better in the mail, but fresh was a bit more versatile. He wouldn’t hear the end of it if he got the wrong one, and he definitely didn’t want to call again. “Maybe both?” 

They sorted out packaging and prices. Derek tried not to wince at the cost as he handed over his card, knowing he would never see the reimbursement his aunt had promised. Stiles chattered cheerfully as he put the order together and handed it over to Derek. “Looks like you're all set.”

Derek nodded and took the packages. Stiles gave him an awkward wave, and he left the store. He walked home feeling bereft. Like he had missed an important opportunity.


	2. Chapter 2

Erica waltzed into Derek’s loft and started rifling through his closet. Derek made sure to mark his place in his book, because--contrary to what his family claimed--he wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t stop reading. Erica had moved from Beacon Hills to New York over four years ago, and had lived in the apartment below Derek’s for three of those years. 

While he was less than thrilled when she first arrived, they had slowly gotten to know each other, and he now counted her as one of his closest friends. He knew that she would tell him why she was here soon enough, as obnoxiously as she could. Most likely stealing his book in the process.

Sure enough, it didn’t take long for her to toss a pair of black jeans on his head and yank the paperback from his hands. “Get dressed, bitch, we're going clubbing.”

Derek threw off the jeans and scowled up at her, looking pointedly down at his pajama pants, then back at her. She knew his policies about leaving the house after he had changed out of his work clothes. Mainly, he didn’t.

Erica scowled right back at him. “Don’t care. You are coming out with me.”

“No.” Derek rolled onto his side and crossed his arms.

Erica climbed over the back of the couch and landed on top of him. She wiggled and he grunted as she dug her elbow into his side. “Come on, Derek. I have an in to that new warehouse club. When we’re done, it won’t even take that long to get back home.” Derek grumbled. “I need you to scare away all the creepy guys.”

“Why can’t you scare them away yourself?” Derek started rolling over in an attempt to make her fall off the couch.

“I can, but you do it so much faster. One look at your scowly face and they run hard and fast.” Erica sat up and straddled his legs so he had less room to maneuver.

“I scowl because clubs are horrible places for a werewolf to be.” Derek tried to reach for the discarded book while Erica pressed her elbow into his shoulder to restrict his movement so that he couldn’t reach far enough.

“Bullshit. You’ve been extra scowly all week. If you’re going to be miserable anyway, you might as well be miserable while I’m having fun.”

Derek had been miserable all week. It was Saturday and he was still obsessing over what had happened on Tuesday. He was kicking himself for not at least trying to get Stiles’ number, and agonizing over whether he should go back to the shop. 

She started poking his sides. “Come on.” She dragged out her plea like she knew he hated.

Derek sighed as hard as he could. Erica was right about his ability to chase off creeps, and he knew she would have more fun if he went with her. “Fine.”

“Ha!” Erica rolled off of him gracefully and threw the jeans at him again. “Those jeans, green Henley on the table.”

“I can dress myself, Erica,” Derek groused. 

“Not as well as I can. Those jeans do wonderful things to your ass.” Derek growled at her and rolled his eyes. “The girls and I will meet you downstairs. If you aren’t there in 15 minutes, I’m dragging you out the window.”

Derek pulled on the requested shirt. “If you already have your friends going with you, why do you need me?”

Erica blew him a kiss and sashayed out of the loft. He made her wait 16 minutes just to be spiteful.

***

The club was just as noisy, smelly and crowded as Derek expected. They’d only been there for twenty minutes and his head was already pounding. Derek pressed against the wall, holding a barely sipped beer. Erica and one of her friends were wrapped around some stranger while the others chatted with the bartender.

Derek almost wished he’d brought his book, but he doubted he’d have found enough light to read by. He wondered how long it would take Erica to notice if he ducked out and went home. He was eyeing the exit when the smell hit him. It was difficult to distinguish from the sweat and lust permeating the air, but he was sure it was there. Citrus and honey, with undertones of spice. 

He looked through the mass of bodies, trying to see past the flashing lights. He moved closer to the bar, still hugging the wall and then finally saw him.

Stiles was standing at a table on the other side of the bar, talking with a group of people. He was dressed in tight purple skinny jeans, and a black tank top that showcased the tattoos covering his arms. His long fingers were wrapped around an angular glass of colourful liquid.

Derek drank in the sight of him, unable to look away. He took a step forward and bumped into a random clubgoer. He barely spared the guy and his cussing a glance, but he retreated back against the wall. Stiles might not even recognize him. Even if he did, Derek hadn’t exactly made the best impression. Stiles probably thought he was just a werewolf with shitty control who didn’t know fuck all about plants. 

Instead, Derek watched Stiles drink, laugh, talk and dance. He memorized the way Stiles moved his hands to emphasize a point, and the curve of his throat as he laughed with his friends. He nearly growled when he watched Stiles dance with the voluptuous redhead in his group, and was grateful when they returned quickly to their table. The woman leaned close and whispered in Stiles’ ear, and Derek realized she was looking right at him, but he couldn’t force himself to turn away.

Stiles turned, looking through the crowd until he found Derek. He grinned in recognition, tipping his head. Derek dug his claws into the wall behind him. Stiles tossed back the remainder of his drink and herded his friends onto the dance floor. They danced as a group, staying together but with Stiles on the edge. 

Derek stood, gripped by indecision. He wanted to feel Stiles move like that with him, feel the roll of his hips and the pounding of his heart. But Stiles was with his friends, and Derek couldn’t tell if his advances would be welcome.

Stiles looked over his shoulder straight at Derek as he moved his hips again and tilted his head to the side, baring his neck. If that didn’t mean _come hither_ to a werewolf, Derek didn’t know what did.

Derek abandoned his wall and started winding through the mass of bodies, stalking Stiles like prey. It took some time to get across the floor, avoiding the attempts of other people to bring him closer. When Derek finally reached Stiles, he pressed his front against Stiles’ back and was rewarded by Stiles reaching for his arms and pulling them around him. 

Stiles wasted no time, and grinded his ass against Derek, who was already half hard. Derek filtered out the noises around them, focusing on the beat of Stiles’ heart and the thump of the music.

At some point, Erica and her entourage came over to join Stiles’ group. Derek didn’t greet them. He was too busy pressing his teeth into the side of Stiles’ neck, rocking against him. He probably should have asked before marking Stiles, but the bruise blossomed on his pale skin so beautifully he couldn’t help himself.

When he was satisfied with the mark, he slid his hand around to rest on Stiles’ belly, fingertips brushing the top of his jeans. He felt the vibration of Stiles’ moan more than he heard it. Stiles grabbed the hand and started pulling away. Derek growled in protest, but Stiles only turned around and latched their mouths together, cutting him off. 

Derek clung to him, kissing him hard and wet until Stiles pulled back again, gasping for air. Stiles slid his abused mouth along Derek’s jaw, to his ear. “Come outside?” Derek nodded and let Stiles lead him through the crowd and out a side door. 

They emerged in an alley, other couples already pressed against the dirty walls. Stiles didn’t spare them a glance as he led Derek away from the door and into a shadowed corner. He pressed Derek against the wall and fused their mouths together again.

Derek slotted one of his legs between Stiles’, who took the invitation to resume grinding against him. He revelled in the feel of Stiles’ tongue sliding against his, the satiny firmness of his lips and the pull of Stiles sucking on his bottom lip.

Nimble fingers went for his belt and Derek immediately tensed. Stiles pulled back, looking concerned, and Derek tugged him closer by his waist. “I want to, I just...it isn’t safe.”

Stiles wound his arms around Derek’s neck. “Safe how?”

Derek tucked his hand into Stiles’ back pocket. “There are too many people around and anything could get to us out here. I can’t protect you if I’m…” 

Stiles nodded, “I understand.”

“I’m sorry.” Derek pressed his face into Stiles’ neck and breathed him in. Stiles hummed in appreciation.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Not everyone is comfortable with back alley blowjobs.” Derek whined. He felt punched in the gut by the image of Stiles on his knees, mobile mouth wrapped around Derek’s cock. “I have an apartment above the shop. Would you be more comfortable there?”

Derek weighed his options.The shop was at least a half an hour by cab and he was desperate to have Stiles. It was stupid to let someone into his territory, but Stiles didn’t feel like a threat, and the very thought of having him in Derek’s bed, their scents mixing, made his wolf want to howl. “My place is only a couple blocks from here.”

“Yeah?” Stiles moved back to look at him. “You want me there?” Derek nodded. Stiles pulled out his phone. “Give me your address so I can tell one of my friends where I’ll be. Safety first and all.” Derek typed the address in for him, then took the opportunity to shoot off a text to Erica telling her he was leaving. 

She responded instantly with, _No shit ;)_

***

Derek slid open the door of the loft, and gestured Stiles to go ahead of him. Stiles went in and walked straight over to the large bookshelves lining the wall and started looking through the selection. Derek watched him nervously hoping he’d like what he found.

“Bit of everything, huh? What’s your favourite?” Derek thought for a minute and then pulled down one of his box sets.

“Fantasy writer. She created this whole world, maps, gods, everything. Set three different quartets there. And a trilogy.” Derek ran a hand over the spines on a shelf and tried not to wince. Most of his family thought he read far too much, and that his book choices were strange.

“I love world building. I’ll have to check her out.” Stiles replaced the boxset and continued browsing. “You know, when I moved to New York, one of the things I was most excited for was the libraries. I have to say I'm relieved. I don't let anyone fuck me unless they have at least one shelf of books in their home.”

Derek’s jaw dropped at the implication. Stiles walked over to the bed, stripping off his tank top, revealing more swirls and stripes of colour underneath, and smirked back at Derek.

The blue flash of Derek’s eyes reflected in the window as he stalked closer to Stiles. “Does that mean I can have you?”

Stiles gave a considering hum and tapped a finger against his chin. “Looks like you have a hell of a lot of books. I think that means you can have me anyway you want.”

Derek cupped Stiles’ jaw with his hand and traced his thumb along Stiles’ bottom lip. Stiles flicked out his tongue, then sucked in the digit, pulling at Derek’s clothes at the same time. Derek had to remove his thumb to let Stiles peel off his shirt. “You want my mouth first, huh? I can do that.” 

Their jeans hit the ground and Stiles followed, dragging Derek’s black briefs down with him. Stiles wrapped his hand around the base of Derek’s cock, and teased the tip with his tongue, looking up at Derek while he did. Derek whined at the sight of Stiles on his knees before him, and Stiles smirked. Derek cupped the back of Stiles’ head while he licked along his shaft. When Derek’s erection was well and truly slicked, Stiles sucked briefly on the head before swallowing him in a smooth motion.

“Fuck.” Derek fought for control as his hips jerked forward into the wet heat of Stiles’ throat. He tried to pull back quickly, but Stiles dug his fingers into Derek’s ass to keep him from going too far. He ran his tongue along the sensitive underside and Derek gasped as his hips made another aborted thrust forward.

Stiles let Derek fall from his mouth, lips already turning obscenely red. “It’s okay, you can do it if you want. I’ll pull back when I need to breathe.” He devoured Derek’s dick again. Derek tightened his grip in Stiles’ hair and moved his other hand to Stiles’ throat where he could feel himself engulfed. His hips moved forward and this time he let them, in small, short strokes at first, then harder as they established a rhythm for Stiles to breathe and then suck him back in.

His orgasm built quickly, and took him by surprise. “Stiles, I-” He tried to warn him and pull out. Stiles moved a hand from Derek’s ass to grip his dick again, letting it rest on the pillow of his bottom lip while Derek’s pleasure tore through him, come spurting into Stiles’ mouth and down his chin when he didn’t swallow enough.

When he was finished, Derek trembled as he let Stiles maneuver him onto the bed and straddled him. He tried to reach for where Stiles’ cock hung heavy between his legs, but Stiles batted his hand away. “I don’t want to be done yet. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but werewolf healing applies to refractory periods, right?” Derek nodded, and Stiles grinned devilishly. “Think you’ll be ready when I finish fingering myself for you?”

Derek’s growl vibrated in his chest, and his dick gave a valiant twitch of agreement. Derek was still subverbal from having his brain sucked out through his dick, so he gestured vaguely to the nightstand. Stiles rifled through the drawer and gave a triumphant shout when he unearthed a bottle of good-quality lube.

Stiles wasted no time coating his fingers and reaching down to work himself open. Derek was captivated by the expressions that played across Stiles’ face as he moved. At first, he was content to simply watch, while petting Stiles’ pale skin wherever he could reach. 

When Stiles was gasping for release, Derek pushed him onto his back and took over fingering him. Stiles had managed three fingers already, but Derek’s were thicker so he started with two, sliding and scissoring while Stiles moaned beneath him. 

After Derek had added a third finger and the hint of a fourth, Stiles panted out, “Now, now, now.” Derek grabbed one of his pillows and shoved it under Stiles’ hips.

“Do you want me to use a condom?” Derek ground out.

Stiles shook his head. “Werewolf, right? Safe?” Derek nodded into his neck. “Wanna feel you.”

“Fuck, the things you say. You have no idea what you do to me.” Derek hooked Stiles’ leg over his arm, making room to line himself up at Stiles’ entrance. Stiles reached between them and guided him in. Derek moved slowly, letting Stiles adjust an inch at a time until he was fully sheathed deep inside him. 

Derek mouthed along Stiles’ jaw as he shuddered beneath him. He found a sensitive spot to kiss behind his ear, and Stiles clenched around him, then rolled his hips. Derek thrust, fast and hard. Stiles moaned his encouragement, and wrapped his arms tight around Derek’s torso. 

They moved together fluidly, the room echoed with the sound of skin against skin and harsh breathing. Stiles’ cock was dripping between them, so Derek moved his hand down to give him something to push into. Stiles accepted it this time, rocking into Derek’s hand with every push into his wet heat. 

Derek caught his mouth in a bruising kiss then bit down on his lip hard, with human teeth. It was exactly what Stiles needed, and his inner walls clenched around Derek as come slipped over his hand between them. The combination of that and Stiles’ deep noise of pleasure had Derek following quickly with his own orgasm, continuing to thrust until they were both spent. He buried his face in Stiles’ shoulder, still wrapped around him and inside of him.

Stiles wasn't still for long. He started squirming under Derek as soon as he’d caught his breath, then gasped when Derek’s cock rubbed against over-sensitive skin as he pulled out, reluctantly. “Don’t go,” Derek murmured. He felt horribly vulnerable as Stiles sat up and stretched.

Stiles smiled down at him, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll stay as long as you want. I’m just going to grab some water. Do you want to clean off?”

Derek shook his head. He liked the smell of them together, wanted to wallow in it as long as possible. Stiles grinned knowingly but didn’t tease him about it. He padded over to Derek’s kitchen, unperturbed by his own nakedness, and poured himself a glass. He downed one at the counter, then filled it up again and brought it back to give some to Derek, then set on the nightstand.

“Nice kitchen,” Stiles said, wiggling around next to Derek in search of the perfect sleeping spot.

“It turned out well,” Derek said. “I’m pretty proud of it.”

Stiles rolled to face him. “Yeah?”

Derek traced the designs that swirled around Stiles’ chest and arms. “When I first bought the building, it had one cupboard, a mini fridge and a hot plate.” Stiles looked over his shoulder at the sleek stainless steel appliances, granite countertops and prep island. 

He turned back to Derek eyebrow raised. “That’s quite a difference.”

Derek was close to preening at Stiles’ compliment. “The whole building was like that when I got here, two steps up from condemned, really. I updated everything, wiring, plumbing, appliances, all through the building before renting it out. With the rent, I had enough to buy the building next door and start doing the same thing. I’m half-way through it now.”

“Shit, that’s impressive. This place is nice.” Stiles continued to pepper him with questions. He tried not to appear too enthusiastic about something as boring as home renovations, but he was thrilled with Stiles’ interest and bursting with pride that he appreciated his accomplishments. It was rare that anyone took the time to give him any sort of affirmation that he was doing something well.

Stiles didn’t so much fall asleep as pass out mid-sentence, mumbling a bit before losing consciousness completely. Derek snuggled into his prone form and wrapped himself in the smell of citrus and honey.

***

When Stiles had said he would stay as long as Derek wanted, Derek hadn’t really believed him. Not because he thought Stiles was lying, but because Derek wanted Stiles to stay forever. It was ridiculous and unreasonable to expect forever from someone he had met so recently, but it felt like Stiles fit into his soul. Like Derek had been going through life with something missing. His heart had found Stiles and thought _Oh, there you are, I’ve been waiting for you._ It didn’t really care what his head had to say on the matter.

So when Derek woke up Sunday morning, he had fully expected Stiles to have taken off. When he hadn’t, Derek figured they’d have some lazy morning sex and then Stiles would vanish. The sex had happened, but when they were finished Stiles had foraged in the kitchen and produced a decent breakfast.

They teased and flirted over the meal, and the whole time, a voice in the back of Derek’s mind kept saying, _Okay, this is the last you’ll see of him._ It repeated this mantra when they showered together, and when they watched reruns of CSI. It said it again as they ordered pizza and ate it off paper plates at the coffee table. It didn’t say it when they had sex again, because really, Derek had better things to think about. 

It screamed out that Stiles was due to disappear when Aunt Celia called to complain that the post office had trouble finding the house. Derek wasn’t really sure how that was his fault, since he’d typed out the address correctly and paid for urgent delivery. Stiles sat next to him, reading the first book of the series Derek had recommended the night before, while Derek listened with half an ear to first his Aunt berating him, then her husband, then his mother.

For the entire hour it took to end the phone call, Derek expected Stiles to get up and slip out the door but he didn’t. He waited until the call was over, then smiled and drew Derek close, like he knew he needed the extra comfort.

Stiles fell asleep in Derek’s bed again that night, talking until he was too far gone to form coherent words.

He did leave Monday morning, because he needed to get clothes and go to work. Before he left, he made plans with Derek to meet him that evening at a restaurant near the shop.

Derek thought there was no way he could get Stiles to come back to the loft again, that after being forced to sit at a table in Derek’s awkward, tense company, Stiles would beg off and return home.

He was shocked when they finished their meal and Stiles asked simply, “Your place or mine?”

Derek kept on waiting for Stiles to realize what a waste of space he was and leave, but Stiles stayed by his side as often as possible, and always made plans for when they’d see each other again if he couldn’t. Stiles started spending more time in Derek’s loft than he did in his own apartment, his clothes mingling with Derek’s, random plants and books appearing on shelves. Derek moved the mattress away from the wall, and Stiles left a phone charger on what they considered his side of the bed.

Derek never asked him something so formal as “Would you move in with me?” but they both called it home and acted accordingly. The godawful lime green “modern” chair Derek’s sister had sent him for his last birthday ended up relegated to Stiles apartment where neither of them had to look at it.

Stiles didn’t turn tail and run when Erica interrogated him. In fact, he gave as good as he got, and won her over with an in-depth discussion on “mansplaining”.

Derek survived officially meeting Lydia’s special brand of fiery intimidation. He mostly ignored Jackson, which made Stiles cackle with glee, and found he enjoyed Danny’s company. 

He was a nervous wreck the first time Stiles called him over to the couch to say hi to Scott on Skype. They didn’t exactly have much in common, but their shared love of Stiles provided a decent stepping stone.

Stiles frequently mentioned Derek in calls to his dad. It soothed Derek to hear Stiles casually mention him, like he was an unrefuted fixture. Derek did _not_ mention Stiles when his own family called. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep him a secret. For all Derek knew, Erica had already told the pack all about him. It was just that he knew that they would find something objectionable about their relationship, and Derek didn’t want to hear any barbs or digs in connection to Stiles. They had more than enough ammunition to work with.

It wasn’t like he needed his mother's approval as alpha, because Stiles already knew about werewolves. There was no secret to risk when it was the pack that had sent him to Stiles in the first place, in a roundabout way.

Stiles didn’t seem to mind. He always just did his own thing until Derek ended the call, then held him close until the anger and hurt faded.


	3. Chapter 3

A few months after Stiles came into his life, Derek hung up the phone, Laura’s words ringing in his ears. _What good is a degree from NYU if you're just a glorified labourer? I guess you’re not really smart enough to do much else. It’s amazing they accepted you in the first place._

It was far from the first time one of the pack had said something along those lines, but it never failed to cut Derek to the quick. He had worked hard at NYU, graduating with honours, and he was making a name for himself in property development in New York.

He looked over at his degree, hung proudly on the wall of the loft that he’d restored, and the fury overflowed. He hurled his fist into the frame, and the glass shattered around it, slicing his fingers and falling to the ground.

“Hey! Whoa! Derek, what the fuck? What happened?” Stiles rushed out of the bathroom and grabbed Derek’s arm before he could swing again. Derek could easily shake him off but the concern in Stiles’ voice stopped him. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Derek whined and curled into Stiles’ willing embrace. He allowed himself to be led over to the couch, and buried himself in the familiar smell of Stiles and the soothing lilt of his voice as he stroked and murmured.

When Derek was mostly calm again, Stiles said softly, “I don’t understand why they treat you this way.”

Derek pulled out of his arms and sat rigidly next to him. It was the first time Stiles had actually made a direct comment about his family. He had sat through many an agonizing phone call, listened to Derek try to defend himself and weathered the aftermath when Derek could finally hang up. He’d given Derek encouraging looks and support, making it clear that Derek could talk to him about it whenever he wanted, but Derek had never done more than explain what they said that time, and Stiles hadn’t pushed.

Stiles slipped his fingers into Derek’s own already-healed hand, but stayed silent. Derek stared straight ahead blindly as he cleared his throat, then struggled through the words.

“You know, not everyone is as easygoing about werewolves as you are. As long as there’s been werewolves, there’s been werewolf hunters. When I was sixteen, one of the strongest branches--the Argents--moved into our territory. One of them, Kate, started filling in for a teacher at my high school. She took an interest in me.” Stiles tensed next to him, and pressed himself against Derek’s side to encourage him to continue.

“It was stupid of me to talk to her at all, but she was older, sophisticated, and sexy. I’d only ever had one other relationship, which hadn’t gone well, never slept with someone before her, and it was so important to keep the family secret that I didn’t have many friends, so...I trusted her. She told me that she didn’t believe the same things her family did, that she was different, and that I was special.” He gave a humorless laugh. “She said I was exactly what she needed. And then she tried to lock my whole family in the basement and set our house on fire.”

Stiles swore beside him, but didn’t let go. Derek still couldn’t bring himself to look at him.

“Kate didn’t follow their code. She didn’t care that we never hurt anyone, or that there were children and humans in the house, she just set out to murder us all. She almost did it too, but one of my human aunts got us out. She nearly died, and her husband Peter was inconsolable while she healed, and he wanted revenge on the Argents.” Derek shuddered at the memory of his uncle’s rage.

“When they were trying to figure out how Kate knew what to do, and where we’d be, I told mother what had happened. She was furious. She didn’t speak to me for weeks. I don’t know what she told the pack, but they knew it was my fault. If the alpha was angry, then so were they.” He took a deep breath. “It’s gotten better, really, since I moved away. The first two years were pretty bad. I thought maybe they’d turn me out and I’d become an omega. If I stay here, they don’t have to be near me, and I…” Derek trailed off. They were his pack, but he didn’t really want to be near them either. Not anymore.

“Derek, I don’t understand. None of that was your fault.” Derek's head snapped over and he finally looked at Stiles.

“Were you not listening? I trusted her and it almost got my pack killed.” 

Stiles shook his head. “You trusted her, and she took advantage of you. She was a murderer, Derek. If she hadn’t used you, she would have found another way.” Stiles said it with such conviction, but Derek just shook his head.

“I let her get close to me. I told her exactly what she wanted, just because I wanted to get laid.”

“Derek, you were 16. What she did was statutory rape. She was your teacher, so that makes it coercion, too. Or manipulation, or whatever. She knew exactly what buttons to push to get what she needed. It wasn’t your fault.” Stiles’ voice was hard and angry, but he still held Derek’s hand.

“I should have told someone when she approached me, should have told someone we were sleeping together,” Derek insisted.

“Fuck that.” Stiles spat. “You really think your family couldn’t smell her on you? When I started having sex with people, Scott could always smell it on me, no matter how hard I tried to wash it off. He hadn’t even been a wolf that long. Your pack is mostly born wolves. There is no way that not a single adult in your pack couldn’t smell that you were with someone. Did anyone ask you? Did anyone ever stop to make sure you were being safe?”

Derek snorted. “Peter. My uncle bought me condoms, and then his wife was nearly killed by the person I used them with.”

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, and refused to budge from his opinion. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Derek closed his eyes and shook his head. “You keep saying that--”

“It’s true. It wasn’t fair, you couldn’t have known she was batshit crazy, and it _wasn’t your fault._ I am going to keep saying it, over and over and maybe someday, you’ll let yourself believe me.” Derek finally allowed himself to curl into Stiles.

“You mean you’ll stay?” He mumbled into Stiles’ shoulder.

“Of course I’ll stay. As long as you can put up with me, I’ll be here.” Derek pushed Stiles down onto the couch and clung to him.

The voice in the back of Derek’s head insisting that Stiles would leave wasn’t nearly so loud after that.

***

Stiles was sprawled over Derek’s couch with his laptop and a bag of Doritos. He’d perfected the art of one-handed typing, as well as left-handed chip eating. Lydia was covering the shop for the day and he was gearing up to do some research for a client.

Derek was working on a project outside their neighborhood today, which was unfortunate, but probably for the best, if Stiles wanted to get any actual work done. Derek was great at doing things separately, while together, but Stiles inevitably got distracted by his goddamn face and ridiculous body and simply had to sex him up immediately, deadlines be damned.

He was wiping off his hand on his shirt, about to get serious, when the ward he’d put on the front door of the building pulsed. It wasn’t really a concern, since there were, of course, other tenants who were perfectly within their rights to have guests. 

When the second ward at the top of the stairs flared, he sat up. This ward was much more of an issue, because their apartment was the only one on this floor. He set his laptop aside and walked over to the door. He brushed a finger along the runes he’d painted, activating the barrier. It was probably nothing. Someone had the wrong apartment, or forgot to say they were coming. Stiles, however, was the son of a sheriff, and he had sat through far too many lectures about the dangers of answering doors to strangers. Granted, he hadn’t heard the lectures since he was 12, but that didn’t make them any less relevant.

The person stood outside the door for a minute, waiting. Stiles wasn’t sure what they were doing, but he wasn’t going to open the door and let them know he was listening for them like a creeper. They finally knocked, somewhat impatiently, really, and Stiles counted to five before sliding open the door.

The two women before him stepped back in surprise, looking wary. Stiles noticed their nostrils flare, as their heads tilted identically.

They stood there staring at him like he had two heads, and both had spewed insults at them. “Can I help you?”

“Who the hell are you?” growled the older woman. She looked to be in her thirties, but fit and lean. The other woman looked around high school age. They shared the same dark hair and striking bone structure, but it was the growl that really tipped him off.

These were Derek’s sisters.

Now, most people upon realizing this would probably lower the barrier, and invite them inside. They were, after all, his boyfriend’s family. Stiles was not most people. He did not do those things. In fact, in a way, he did the opposite, bracing himself to fill the doorway. “I’m Stiles.”

“What are you doing here?” The woman demanded. Stiles was pretty sure this was Laura, unless these were cousins and not sisters. He didn’t really care either way.

Stiles shrugged casually. “I kinda live here.”

Laura scoffed. “No, you don’t. Where’s our brother?”

Yes to sisters then, score one point for Stiles. “Not here,” he answered.

“No shit. Why not?” Laura was clearly unimpressed with his lack of information, and Stiles tried not to let his pleasure at that show on his face.

“It is the middle of the day,” Stiles pointed out.

“You’re here,” said the other woman. Stiles was guessing by the age that this was Isabella, instead of Derek’s middle sister, Cora.

He nodded, just to see them fume. “I certainly am.”

“Get out of our way,” Laura growled.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. I don’t even know for sure who you are.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “We’re Derek’s sisters. This is his apartment, I know it is. I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, but you’re going to get out of our way.

“Hmm. Nope.” Stiles popped the P obnoxiously. This probably wasn't the best first impression he could have made, but hey, in for a penny, in for a pound. “You say you’re his sisters, but I can’t actually confirm that. You could be escaped convicts, or horrible villainous mythical monsters for all I know. Probably better if you come back when he gets home.”

He watched Laura’s face turn murderously angry as he flippantly hinted at their supernatural status. “We’re not waiting.”

“Suit yourself,” Stiles said with a shrug, then slid the door shut in their faces. They both gave an outraged shout and immediately started banging on the door, unable to open it, thanks to Stiles’ wards.

He brushed another rune so they couldn’t hear him and pulled out his phone. He hoped he could give Derek a heads up before they thought to call him. The first call went to voicemail. Stiles didn’t bother leaving a message, just hung up and redialed. Derek often didn’t pick up if his hands were full. A repeated call would let him know Stiles needed a quick response.

Sure enough, after a few rings, Derek answered, “Stiles?”

“Hey, babe,” Stiles greeted, trying for casual and missing the mark.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m safe and sound.” Stiles wanted to reassure Derek before he could jump to conclusions. If Derek were a superhero, his power would be leaping to the worst possible scenario in a single bound. “It’s just that there are some people outside the loft. They claim to be your sisters, which is most likely true because they’re tall, dark and sexy.”

“Dammit, no one told me they were coming. I’m sorry, they probably interrupted your work.”

“Eh, I’ll get it done eventually. The thing is...I kind of refused to let them inside.” Stiles scratched the back of his head while staring at the door Laura and Isabella were still pounding on.

Derek was silent for a moment. “Why?”

Stiles sighed. “There are a lot of explanations I could probably give you that I told myself at the time, but honestly? They irked me. I find them irksome.” Derek snorted over the phone. “It's just that she had this snotty look on her face like I was intruding, and this is our place. I mean, it’s your place, but-”

“No, it’s ours. I want you to know that you belong there.”

“Thank you for that. I know I should probably open the stupid door, but I don’t want them in here.” Stiles chewed his fingernail, and looked at the new frame around Derek’s diploma. They had replaced it a month ago, but the reason for it’s replacement was still fresh in Stiles’ mind. “I don’t really care if they dislike me, but I don’t want you to get in trouble over this.”

“I don’t want them in our space either. I could deal with it if we had some notice, but as it is...I guess I’m feeling territorial. I’ll call Erica, see how soon she can get home. We’ll take them out to dinner, then they can stay with her,”

“Are you sure? I can suck it up if it’s easier to have them here.” Stiles curled onto the couch.

“I’m sure. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

“I’ll be here.” Stiles said. Simple words, that to them meant so many things. _I love you, I want to be with you, I’ll always stay,_ wrapped up in one sentence.

Derek said goodbye, and Stiles pulled his laptop over to resume working. Laura and Isabella gave up on the door, and stood outside making snippy comments about Stiles and their surroundings. They did call Derek, but he didn’t pick up. 

Stiles considered turning on some music to drown out their bitching, but before he could do so, he heard Erica call out a greeting to the sisters.

They were friendly and cheerful with their hellos to her, clearly exchanging hugs and happy to be reunited. Then, Laura turned sour again. “We came up to find Derek but some random guy opened the door and wouldn’t let us in. Who the fuck is he?”

“Stiles. I told you about him.”

“When? I don’t remember hearing about him.” Isabella sounded genuinely confused.

“I’m sure I told you when they met. The hottie from the shop Aunt Celia sent Derek to?” 

“That was months ago! Why is he still here?” Stiles could practically hear the sneer in Laura’s voice.

Erica, being epic, handled it like a pro. “Laura, that’s kind of how relationships work. You meet someone, and then you try and keep them as long as possible without hating each other. Stiles and Derek are actually really good together.” Laura hummed a combination of disbelief and disgruntlement. “Wait, you didn’t piss him off, did you?”

Stiles was happy he still had his silencing rune on, because he couldn’t help snickering at how dramatic Erica sounded. Laura made a noise equivalent to a noncommittal shrug, and Isabella said, “Probably.”

“Shit. You need to be more careful!” Erica exclaimed.

“What possible threat could a scrawnyass kid like that be to a werewolf?” Laura scoffed.

“Did it occur to you that Derek met him at essentially a magic store? Stiles is hella powerful. He could hex the shit out of you,” Erica scolded, and Stiles cackled.

He totally could, too. He wouldn’t, because it would probably end up fucking Derek over somehow, and he liked to pretend he wasn’t nearly as morally grey as he actually was. His tattoos weren’t mere decoration just because he’d made sure they looked badass. They were roadmaps and storage containers, and he had enough materials scattered around the loft that he could come up with something pretty uncomfortable right now if he really wanted to.

The pair sounded surprised and a little disbelieving so Erica pulled out the big guns. “His business partner is a banshee, whose boyfriend is a kanima. He was doing a spell in the loft once, and he sneezed. His protective circle burst into flames. He put it out with a hiccup, then continued to finish the spell.”

Stiles remembered that. It wasn’t the only time something along those lines had happened, hence the protective circle, but Erica didn’t mention the hiccup was from him freaking out over potentially burning Derek’s hardwood floor. The flames didn’t leave a mark though, and Derek had fun teasing him about it for days.

Having established Stiles as Not To Be Fucked With, Erica led the sisters downstairs to her own apartment. Stiles put them out of his mind to finish his work. He was fully immersed in his research two hours later when he registered a soft tap on the door. 

Stiles bounced off the couch, quickly deactivating his runes and sliding the door open. Derek sagged in relief, a miniscule change, but Stiles was attuned to him enough to notice. He pulled Derek into the apartment and gathered him close. “You okay?”

“Couldn’t hear your heartbeat,” Derek mumbled into Stiles’ neck. “I knew you were here because I could smell you still, but it’s not the same.”

“I’ve been right here since I called you. Did you just get back?” Stiles let Derek snuffle and scent him to his heart's content, taking the opportunity to cop a feel of his ass.

“No, I went straight to Erica’s. Laura would have heard me come in and followed me up. We’ve been talking downstairs for two hours. She’s decided we can go out for dinner, and let me go get ready.” 

Stiles worried his lip. “Do you know why they're here?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Apparently, Isabella has a college interview for a program at NYU. They’ve known they were coming for weeks, but no one thought to mention it to me.”

Stiles scrunched up his face. “Charming. Does that mean she’ll be moving here?”

“Izzy isn’t sold on the program yet, so I’m not sure. Erica has been thinking of moving back to Beacon Hills, to be near the pack, so Izzy could most likely take her apartment if she wanted it.” Derek shrugged. “She may not come at all and if she does, she may want to experience dorm life.”

“No sense in worrying about it then,” Stiles said, channeling his inner Timon and Pumba. 

“Right now, I just need to get through dinner.” Derek started rhythmically clenching his hands into Stiles’ shirt, a gesture Stiles knew betrayed his nerves. “Do you think you could come with us? You don’t have to but I...”

“Sure.” He didn’t relish the idea of being stuck at a table with Laura for the evening but he wasn’t keen on sending Derek by himself either. “Where are we going?”

“I think they decided on that french place you like. The one with the puffy cheesecake thing.” Derek gestured vaguely in the shape of the dessert.

“Le Papillon! At least the food will be good. Want to help me shower?” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Derek rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth tipped up a bit too, so Stiles counted it a success. He started for the bathroom, then as an afterthought, returned to the door to reactivate the silencing rune.

“What’s that for?” Derek frowned.

“I figured no one needs to hear the awesome blowjob I’m about to give you in the shower.” Stiles explained nonchalantly. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised when Derek tackled him, and carried him into the bathroom caveman style.

***

All in all, Stiles considered dinner a success. The food really was good, and while he and Derek’s sisters were no more amicable after having shared a meal, he did think they had come to an understanding. Mainly, that Stiles would not be intimidated or run off.

Every time Laura had doled out a snarky or sly comment, Stiles had dished something obnoxious right back. He always said it with such cheerfulness and humor, that she couldn’t really call him on it. 

Erica tried to keep things from getting awkward, while Derek focused on keeping his cool in the face of Laura’s derision. Isabella was mostly indifferent, not caring if Laura said anything harsh to Derek but not really attacking him either.

For all that Stiles felt he had held his own, the mental one-upmanship was taxing, and he was exhausted by the time they crawled into bed. They were both grateful that Izzy’s interview and campus tour were fairly early the next day and the sisters were flying back shortly after. They could survive breakfast, then everything would get back to normal. 

Well. As normal as things could be for a magic practitioner and his werewolf boyfriend.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek was settled on the couch with a book, feet propped up on the coffee table while Stiles puttered around in the kitchen. He listened as Erica climbed the stairs and slid open the door. Stiles called out a greeting, and she returned it easily, but she lacked her usual enthusiasm. She went straight for Derek on the couch, tucking her legs up and curling into his side.

Derek put down the book and put his arms around her shoulder. “What’s going on?”

Erica smiled sadly.. “Everyone always thinks you don’t notice things. They’re wrong. In fact, you notice too much sometimes.” She dropped her head on his shoulder with a sigh.

“How could I not notice when my best girl is blue? You didn’t even make fun of Stiles’ shirt when you came in.” Derek smiled at Stiles’ indignant shout. He knew Stiles loved his Stud Muffin shirt.

Erica chuckled, tension easing slightly. Derek let her sit quietly, composing her thoughts. “I’ve decided to go home. I don’t want to leave you by yourself, but I miss the pack. The Klein pack has been fine, but they aren’t ours and Central Park is too crowded. I need to run in the preserve.”

Derek nodded. “I understand. You’ll be happier in Beacon Hills.”

Erica hugged him tight. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have Stiles.” Derek smoothed her vibrant blonde hair. He hated to see her go, but New York made him happy in a way she could never appreciate. “We’ll still be pack, Erica, even if we're far away. You can feel the bond with them from here, right? You’ll still feel it with me.”

Erica squeezed his hand. “I could never have stayed this long without you.”

“When do you leave?” Derek asked.

“In the next month or two, I think. I should call your mother and sort out the details.” Erica stood and brushed off her skirt. “You remember Ronald Davies? He runs the real estate agency in Beacon Hills. He’s looking to retire and he’s willing to take me on.”

“That’s great, Erica.” While Derek excelled at managing the renovation of properties, Erica surpassed him with buying and selling. Her input would be greatly missed with his New York projects.

She leaned over to kiss his cheek, then gave Stiles a hug on her way out the door. “It really is a stupid shirt.”

“You know you want this!” Stiles called after her. He came over and took Erica’s place on the sofa. “You okay?”

Derek nodded, “I’m sad to see her go, but I understand. Pack is important.”

“What about you? Feeling the call to return to the fold?” Stiles said it flippantly, but the twitch of his fingers betrayed his concern.

“Not at all. I like my pack at a distance, and you at my side.” Derek kissed the underside of Stiles’ jaw and Stiles hummed in agreement.

***

Erica’s return home was planned with little involvement from Derek, and yet somehow included him in every aspect. He was conscripted to rent a truck and drive most of Erica’s stuff back to Beacon Hills. If they drove 10 or 12 hours a day, it would take them about 4 days to get there. Derek would stay for the full moon, then head back to New York by plane.

Stiles wasn’t making the journey with them but he packed them a mountain of snacks and made them a playlist. They didn’t plan on stopping for any sightseeing, so they were likely to get pretty bored pretty quickly. They packed up the truck the day before, and Derek offered his couch to Erica, but she declined in favour of an air mattress in her own apartment.

“One last night for me to say my goodbyes,” she claimed. Derek thought it had more to do with the fact that she knew he would want goodbye sex with Stiles before spending over a week apart.

Derek was dreading the prospect of being without him. When they turned in for the night, he let his instincts take over and started sucking marks into his skin. Dark bruises that would last the week, peppered along his neck, thighs and hips.

“Derek, I want you inside me,” Stiles moaned. “Want you to fuck me so good I can feel it tomorrow.”

Derek growled in response. Trust Stiles to know exactly what he needed to hear. Derek opened him up quickly, barely leaving time for him to adjust before positioning Stiles on his hands and knees. 

Stiles gasped as Derek pressed into him, rocking his hips back. Derek pounded into him hard and desperate, whimpering at the intense feeling of tight wet heat. He tried to make it last, latching his mouth onto Stiles shoulder to brace himself against coming before they were ready.

Stiles panted beneath him, murmuring encouragement. When Derek couldn’t take anymore, he reached around and gripped Stiles’ cock, tipping him over the edge. Derek almost followed him when Stiles’ inner walls contracted around him.

As his orgasm finished, Stiles whispered, “I love you.” Derek slammed into Stiles one more time before descending into bliss, coming inside of him before they collapsed together.

He kept Stiles close, still inside of him, while they caught their breath and regained their wits. “Did you mean it?” Derek asked softly.

“Hmm?” Stiles traced patterns on Derek’s skin as he lay pliant in his arms. 

“Do you love me?” Derek pressed his face into Stiles’ neck, and immediately wished he hadn’t asked. He didn’t want to ruin things right before he left, and have to sit through Stiles gently explaining that what he’d said in the heat of the moment didn’t mean anything. 

Stiles hummed, and pulled Derek’s arm tighter around him. “Yeah, I do.”

Derek shivered with relief and whispered, “I love you, too.”

***

Their journey across the country was just as uneventful as Derek predicted it would be. He enjoyed spending time with Erica, but the confines of the car grated on their nerves. They kept to the main highways, only stopping for food, bathrooms, and sleep, dividing the driving between them. 

Stiles sent them knock-knock jokes every few hours to liven things up.

By the time they hit Beacon Hills, Derek was ready to crawl out of his skin. Erica vibrated in the passenger seat, just as anxious to be finished as he was, but with far more anticipation than nervousness.

While for her, the familiar trees and bends of the road caused excitement, they filled Derek with dread. He returned home for every Christmas, Thanksgiving and Easter, but it was never something for him to look forward to. 

It was dark when they finally pulled up the drive. Pack members raced to greet them before they’d even stopped the car. Erica was immediately swept into the group, bombarded with hugs and hellos. Family members brushed against Derek on their way by, leaving the scent of pack on him as they went to welcome Erica.

Derek waited until the pack was gathered in the kitchen with Erica regaling them with stories from the Big Apple before slipping away. He went up to his childhood room--now used mostly for storage--and stretched out on his bed. He listened to the sounds of his pack floating up, and ached with emptiness.

He was still lying on the bed in the dark when his phone went off. The obnoxious pop song made him smile, and remember when Stiles had changed it. Derek pulled it out and answered, quickly, “Stiles?”

“Hey, babe, how was the trip?”

Derek felt the cold fist of anxiety loosen in his chest. He let himself relax as he talked with Stiles, finally hanging up when Stiles fell asleep and his steady breath was all that filled Derek’s ears

***

Truthfully, Derek was surprised he didn’t wolf out sooner. Full moons always put him on edge. Add in the long drive and spending the day with his family and he was ready to tear something apart.

He’d made it through a torturous breakfast, spent the morning with his 2 year old cousin faking a tantrum every two seconds, passed an odious lunch, and the entire afternoon being lectured in some form or another first by his aunt, followed by his sister, and finally his mother.

He really should have known better than to stay put when his cousin Cedric sat next to him at dinner, but he was hungry and he wanted some potatoes before they ran out. Derek focused on his food while Cedric went on and on about being made a junior partner at the law firm. Derek wasn’t really sure why that was a big deal, considering that the firm only had two senior partners, one of whom was Cedric's father.

Of course, he would never say that. Even when Cedric waxed poetic about how law was the noblest of pursuits and how stressful it could be. ( _Come on,_ he thought, _it’s Beacon Hills, not LA_ ). In fact, Derek was fully prepared to ignore him even when he started talking about how work such as law was far more exhausting than physical labour because it took more mental effort.

That was, until Cedric turned to him and said, “Derek, you're a prime example. Your job hardly takes any effort at all.”

Derek stilled, thinking of all the times he had come home with a stress headache from crunching numbers or figuring angles, or the days that even his werewolf muscles took time to heal the stiffness from lugging around materials. “Not exactly.”

Cedric scoffed, “Come on, Der, you’re a glorified labourer.”

Derek swallowed and set down his fork. “It’s not that simple, Cedric. I’m not just hammering nails all day, everyday. It takes a lot of planning and knowledge to get a space put together, as well as physical work.”

Cedric gave a dismissive wave. “Sure it is. Slap some paint on the walls, throw some furniture in and you’re home by six to screw around with that little honey of yours.”

All talk and movement ground to a halt as Derek snarled into his beta form. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

Cedric laughed. “Like what? He’s a flighty little spark. Good for a fuck I guess, but not as a real mate.”

Derek launched himself at his cousin, claws digging into Cedric’s sides as they hit the floor with a thud. He snapped his teeth toward Cedric’s exposed throat, only missing because he was hauled up and spun around to face his alpha. 

“Derek, calm yourself down this instant.” Talia’s red eyes bore into him as she pushed him away from his cousin. Derek whined, but he couldn’t find the right anger to shift back. Hurt and frustration were too close to the surface. 

He ripped his arm out of Talia’s grip and bolted for the door. Erica tried to stop him, but he shook her off, running from the dining room and out the back door into the woods. He ran hard and fast, leaving the calls of his pack behind. He didn’t stop until he reached the largest tree in the forest. He braced his forehead against the tree, panting, and still too distraught to shift back.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, trying hard not to rip his jeans or scratch the screen with his claws. When he managed to get it unlocked and dialling, he sank to the forest floor with his back against the tree while it rang.

“Hello?”

Relief rushed through him at the sound of Stiles’ voice. Emotion caught in Derek’s throat and he couldn’t respond.

“Derek? Are you okay?” All he could manage was a whimper. “Are you hurt?”

A short bitter laugh bubbled up, pushing past the lump.

Stiles was quiet for a second. “Are you physically hurt or in danger right now?”

“No,” Derek whispered, fangs feeling rough and awkward in his mouth.

“What can I do to help?” Stiles asked. Derek closed his eyes. He loved the way Stiles sounded. Non-judgemental, concerned, even without threat of injury, and ready to take on the world in Derek’s defence. Like his emotional well being was just as important as any bodily harm.

“Just talk to me?” Derek pleaded. And Stiles did. He rambled about customers at the shop, what he was making for dinner, and his recent library visit. He told him a dramatic rendition of fighting off an old lady in the grocery store for the last jar of creamy peanut butter.

“It was silly, really. You aren’t even here to eat it, but I wanted it so bad.”

“Miss you,” Derek murmured. He’d shifted back gradually, and all that remained was the ache in his muscles and a lone stubborn claw.

“I miss you, too. Maybe next time I’ll come with you. Visit Scott and my dad while you see your pack. That’s probably silly, but I’d feel better without so many miles between us.”

“I’d like that. How is your dad?” Derek listened to Stiles rant about his father’s refusal to stick to his diet, imagined the way his hand would be gesturing, spatula at the ready. He almost missed the sound of another wolf approaching, and tensed when he heard a fallen branch snap underfoot.

Erica emerged from the trees, Cora following behind her. He didn’t bother to look up or mention it to Stiles. He just sat and listened, letting the calming cadence wash over him. Erica sat down next to him and leaned into his side. Cora hesitated, then followed, inserting herself opposite Erica.

They sat together, rarely speaking, listening to Stiles chat and ramble. The moon was high overhead when Derek’s phone got too close to dying and they had to say goodbye. 

They could hear the other werewolves running through the woods, calling out to each other and bounding past the trees, but they didn’t stand to join them.

“He _is_ my mate.” Derek whispered. “He’s my anchor.”

“I know,” Erica said.

“He sounds nice,” Cora offered.

Derek smirked while Erica laughed. “He’s kind of an asshole, in this fiercely protective way.” 

Cora smiled. “So, like you then?” It lacked the sting of the pack’s usual insults. It felt more teasing and affectionate, like the Cora he knew over a decade ago. The pack before his life went up in smoke.

***

Derek spent the day after the full moon avoiding his mother’s condemning gaze and the nervous glances from the rest of the pack. Erica and Cora stayed with him most of the time, and he genuinely enjoyed getting reacquainted with his sister. He exchanged constant texts with Stiles and called him three separate times throughout the day.

He certainly wouldn’t want to repeat the trip anytime soon, but it could have been much worse.

Erica elected to drive him to the airport in the morning. He got a firm hug from Cora, and a few scent marks from other pack members. They were almost out the door when his mother pulled him aside.

“If I get word from the Klein pack that you can’t control your shift—” she started.

“I can. I will,” Derek insisted. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “It won’t be an issue, I promise.”

“If it is, you will be coming home. Is that clear?” Talia stood proud and stern, every inch an alpha, with no sign of his mother.

Derek lowered his gaze and showed his neck in submission. “Yes, Alpha.”

She placed her hand briefly on his throat in acceptance then walked back into the house. His throat burned where she had touched him, and he ached for approval rather than mere acknowledgement.

Erica ahemed from the car. “Ready to head home to your boo?”

Derek tried to smile reassuringly, but was pretty sure he missed the mark. He focused on what she had said for the entire car ride, the emotional goodbye and the stressful plane ride. He repeated it in his head as a mantra, again and again. He was going home to Stiles.

When his cab let him out at the loft, he paused at the door. What if Stiles had gone to his own apartment? He didn’t technically live here, and there was no telling exactly when Derek would get in. There was no reason for him to be here, except that it hadn’t previously occurred to Derek that Stiles would be anywhere else.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs holding his carry-on, paralyzed with fear. He almost walked right back out when he heard the soft call from upstairs.

“Derek?”

He sagged in relief, then ran up the stairs. Stiles was waiting in the doorway, and he beamed when Derek came into view.

Derek ran straight into his arms, enveloped in the scent and warmth of him, and wrapped in the feeling of _Home._


	5. Chapter 5

Erica had been back in Beacon Hills for over a year when Talia made the decision and Derek was taken completely by surprise.

“It’s time for you to come home. Permanently.”

The phone line buzzed with dead air as Derek tried to think of what had caused the abrupt end to their agreement and how he could get her to change her mind. “I don’t understand. My control has been fine. Better than ever, even.” It wasn’t an exaggeration. Accepting Stiles as his anchor had helped connect him to his wolf in a way he hadn’t since well before the fire.

“This isn’t about that. You’ve been separated from your pack long enough.”

“I can’t just leave. I have a business here. Property, tenants, clients.”

“Of course. All these things will have to be taken care of. The sooner we start, the sooner you can come home. Cora’s wedding will be an excellent opportunity to get everything in order.”

Cora’s wedding to the son of a neighbouring pack’s alpha was only two months away. “It’s not that simple. I’ve built a life here.”

“I know you have enjoyed your experience in New York, but you need to start building your life here, with your pack.”

“What about Stiles?”

“What about him, Derek? Long distance relationships rarely work, even when they're only for a short time. It’s unfortunate, but unavoidable.”

Derek gaped. “Unavoidable? It’s easily avoided by not forcing me to come back!”

“Cut the attitude, Derek. I’m still your alpha, even if it won’t be much longer.”

Fear bled through Derek’s panic. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Was she calling him home just to banish him from the pack? A pack that hated him was still better than being an omega.

Talia sighed. “I’ve decided it’s time to start passing control to Laura. That’s why you need to leave New York. The Klein pack as been more than accommodating for the extended length of your stay. I won’t have her start off indebted to other packs.”

That, more than anything, made Derek understand the finality of her decision. “Mom, please don’t make me leave him.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I’m calling you home, where you belong. You’ll find someone else, Derek. The pack will help. God knows, you're a horrible judge of character when left to your own devices.”

The reminder of Kate went through him like a physical blow. He sat completely numb while his mother discussed details of the move and upcoming wedding, then said goodbye. He stared down at his phone unable to move. 

He stayed there immobile on the couch until Stiles got home from the shop. He burst into the loft like always, vibrant, noisy and mobile, calling out a greeting and launching into an account of his day.

Derek couldn’t even look at him.

Stiles stopped rummaging through the kitchen cupboards. “Derek? Babe, what’s wrong?”

Derek just shook his head. He could hear Stiles coming over to him, and wasn’t surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Derek, baby, please talk to me,” Stiles pleaded gently.

Derek grabbed him around the waist and buried his face in Stiles’ stomach. Stiles rubbed a soothing hand over his back and another into his hair. He waited patiently while Derek tried to drown himself in his scent.

Derek finally managed to let go and pull Stiles down to sit on the couch with him. He choked through an explanation of what had happened.

“You’re leaving?” 

Derek forced himself to look at Stiles. His face reflected the same stunned sorrow he felt himself. “I don’t have a choice.”

Stiles nodded absently. “What about us?”

Derek squeezed his hand. “It’s unlikely that Laura will let me come back when she officially takes over. I can’t ask you to hold out for me on the slim chance she’ll agree.”

“So, that’s it then. Almost two years together, then bam, that's it, over. We don’t get any say in this.” Anger was starting to bleed into Stiles’ voice, replacing the shock.

Derek just nodded and looked down at their joined hands. He was already missing the way they fit together. 

“Well, fuck that.”

“What?” Derek’s eyes snapped back up.

“I refuse. I decline. Not happening.” Stiles tightened his grip on Derek’s hand and Derek recognized the stubborn set of his jaw. “We are not ending this just because your stupid family says hop to it. You’re mine, and I’m yours. We love each other.”

“Stiles, it’s not that simple,” Derek said, but he wanted it to be. He wanted to say to hell with it all and keep Stiles forever. “It’s the other side of the country, Stiles.”

“I know that, Derek. I used to live there, too. We can move back together,” Stiles said.

Derek pushed down the ember of hope in his chest. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You're not asking, I’m deciding.” Stiles cupped Derek’s cheek when Derek shook his head. “This doesn’t need to be the tragic end of our happy ever after. My dad is in California, so is Scott. I thought about moving home when I finished school, but the business took off and then I met you. I never had a good enough reason to. Now there is, so let's do it, let’s go.”

“The shop-”

“Over half our sales are online anyway. I can open a new storefront in Beacon Hills. We can find someone to help Lydia cover the store here.” 

Stiles said it with such certainty. Like it was easy to just uproot his life and move across a country because his boyfriend was being forced to.

Stiles sighed. “Derek, if you don’t want to be with me anymore...I’ll be heartbroken, but I’ll be okay. I’ll let you go. But please don’t punish us both. If you love me, let me make the choice to come with you.”

“You’re sure?” Derek asked.

“Completely.”

Derek pulled him close, desperate to keep him. “You can change your mind--”

“I won’t. I love you, Derek.”

Derek felt unbalanced and whiplashed, thrown between emotions of devastation and elation. “I love you, too.”

***

As Stiles predicted, Lydia knew exactly how to handle their impending departure. What they hadn’t expected was that Lydia would decide to come with them as well. She spouted statistics about the economy, housing, school districts and overall quality of living, and claimed that the milder winters alone were enough to prompt the return home.

Stiles teased her that she would miss him too much to stay by herself. Instead of deflecting, she said simply, “You're my family, you idiot.”

Jackson bitched about it to anyone who would listen, but no one suggested he stay behind. They even convinced Danny to make the journey home when his current IT contract was up at the end of the year.

Derek was quickly overwhelmed by phone calls from his alpha. There were some arrangements to be made and permissions to grant before a powerful witch, a banshee and a Kanima could move into a werewolf territory so old and well-established as Beacon Hills. Considering that all three of them grew up close-by and were non-aggressive, it should have been fairly straightforward. Instead, every conversation with Talia felt like a battle, from the addition of Stiles’ friends, to when they would arrive, and most importantly, where they would stay.

Talia had assumed that Derek would be moving back into the pack home. Derek was less than thrilled at the prospect to say the least, and Stiles himself had outright refused.

“Plenty of packs have separate houses in the same territory. Not all of your pack lives there, and there is no chance in hell we are,” Stiles insisted.

Talia refused to take no for an answer. When neither Derek or Stiles could get through to her, Lydia ended up fielding most of the calls. Eventually, Stiles agreed to Lydia’s hard-won compromise that they would stay at the house for the wedding, but would look for a house of their own immediately.

Derek had enough on his plate without Talia’s interference, and he was grateful that Lydia was willing to take her on. He had to scramble to finish his contracts or find a replacement, on top of finding someone trustworthy to hire as superintendent for his loft, and the other two buildings he rented out.

Talia had originally wanted them to sell the properties, but Derek loved his buildings and Stiles didn’t want to let go of the place they’d started their life together so permanently. Lydia had brought her around by insisting that they were an excellent investment, and would help Derek to contribute to the pack financially while he re-established his career.

Two months flew by and Stiles felt it was far too soon for him to be in the passenger seat of a rental car, watching the road from the airport to Derek’s family home, with the wedding only days away. 

“It’s a nice area,” Stiles said.

“Yep.” Derek’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly Stiles was worried it would bend.

“Lots of trees and space and stuff,” Stiles said, trying to engage Derek again.

“Sure is.”

Stiles put his hand on Derek’s thigh. “Babe.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be a jerk. I’m just...nervous, I guess.” Derek linked his fingers with Stiles’. “I know I saw them at Christmas, but it feels different.” 

“It is different. This is the first step to coming home. It’s a prodigal return to the fold,” Stiles said, dramatically. “Not to mention, I’m coming with you this time, not staying at Scott’s. Who knows, they could hate me on sight.” Stiles tried to say it like a joke but he missed the mark.

“Damn it, Stiles, I should be giving you a pep talk, not the other way around.” Derek said, falling just short of flippant as well. Derek squeezed his hand, then released it to make a turn onto a private road leading into the trees, instead of alongside them. “Erica probably told them how powerful you are--”

Stiles scoffed. “Erica exaggerates.”

“No, she doesn’t. You just downplay your strength, even to yourself.” Stiles snorted and Derek pressed on. “Regardless, it will keep them from directly attempting to antagonize you. You and Erica are already friends. And I know you’ve skyped with Boyd, Isaac and Cora so they know how great you are.”

“That doesn’t count. I was being consulted on gift giving. Boyd isn’t exactly a romantic soul, despite the whole winning the love of his high school best friend after years apart.” 

Derek’s mouth twitched a half smile. “You are good with presents.”

“Damn straight, I’m the the Gift Giving Gangsta. The Present Popping Pimp.” Stiles pulled up his hoodie and struck a hip hop pose, startling Derek into a laugh.

The amusement quickly died as the house loomed into sight.

Erica was already bouncing on the front porch when they parked. She flew down the steps and jumped onto Derek, wrapping her legs around his waist. “You’re here! Boyd, look, he’s finally here!”

“I see that, hon.” Boyd followed behind her, and Derek shifted Erica so he could free his hand to shake Boyd’s.

Cora and Isaac came out while Derek and Boyd grabbed the bags from the car. Derek was embraced by both of them, and after making formal introductions, so was Stiles. 

“Mom will want to meet you, of course, but she’s mediating Aunt Celia and Aunt Maura while they work on the seating plan,” Cora told them.

“Without you?” Derek asked, frowning.

Cora rolled her eyes, “I’m not actually necessary for the majority of the wedding. Just walk down the aisle, say ‘I do” and smile politely.”

“Swear to god, when it’s my time around, it’ll be Elvis in Vegas,” Erica joked. At least, Stiles thought it was a joke. The werewolves were all nodding like she was perfectly serious.

Boyd and Isaac were sent to put their luggage in Derek’s old room while the rest of the group settled into the living room to catch up. They rejoined them quickly, followed by various pack members stopping in to greet Derek and welcome Stiles. 

Everyone was polite but distant, greeting them like acquaintances visiting for the wedding rather than coming home.

For dinner, they settled between Cora and Isaac, with Boyd and Erica across from them. Stiles didn’t really know who was who yet, but Derek seemed pleased with the arrangement.

They were nearly halfway through their meal when Talia joined the pack, two of the aunts close behind her, still bickering. Before taking her seat, she made a beeline for Derek and Stiles. Derek stood quickly pulling Stiles up with him.

“Alpha, may I introduce my mate, Stiles?” Derek said formally, head bowed in submission.

Talia placed her hand on Derek’s neck to accept the gesture, then offered the same hand to Stiles. “I’m pleased to finally meet you.” Stiles felt Derek’s hand twitch on his back. The words sounded pleasant enough, but her tone suggested the meeting was long overdue.

“Likewise. You have a beautiful home,” Stiles replied.

Talia thanked him politely and asked about their trip before taking her seat at the head of the table. The meal resumed and Stiles put his hand on Derek’s thigh under the table.

It didn’t take long for everything to go to shit.

“We cannot put Alpha Hendrix at table eight, Maura, we simply can’t,” ranted one aunt.

“Well, we certainly can’t put him at table twelve, Celia,” Aunt Maura insisted.

“Why not?” Isabella asked.

“Derek is at table twelve. Alpha Hendrix is a well respected alpha with a powerful pack. We can’t risk Derek offending him. They probably wouldn’t get to the soup course before he caused an all-out pack war,” Maura lamented.

Derek bristled next to Stiles, fork halfway to his mouth. He lowered the utensil slowly, and pushed his plate away.

“Well, we can’t put Alpha Graff at table twelve. He’ll be offended if he’s seated with such a low level beta,” Celia argued.

“We can put him with Cedric, that will be much better,” Maura agreed.

Stiles knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he could feel the hurt rolling off of Derek. He was about to open his mouth and let them have it, but Erica beat him to it. “Derek is the alpha’s son, isn’t he ranked higher than Cedric?”

Opinions started flying around the table, growing louder and more angry. Stiles quickly lost track of who was saying what.

“Derek isn’t the oldest.”

“He’s not even the oldest son.”

“But he is Talia’s. Cedric is only her nephew.”

“But Cedric is the oldest of his father’s children, and he has a very impressive career.”

“So does Derek.”

“Derek is a construction worker. How is that impressive?”

“You’d be better off putting them with Kyle or Leo.”

Derek’s hand clung to Stiles’ hand under the table as his family ripped into each other.

“I’m not very hungry,” Stiles said softly.

Derek nodded and they left the table quickly. Stiles wasn’t sure if anyone even noticed them go.

They hurried up the stairs and into Derek’s bedroom. Their luggage had already been placed among the storage boxes piled into the room. Stiles couldn’t help feel resentful that Derek’s pack couldn’t even bother to clean out his room when they claimed to want him to move back home. He tamped down his anger and tried to be calm for Derek’s sake.

***

“We could still go to a hotel room,” Stiles said gently, sitting down on the bed.

“It's too late, all of them will be booked for the wedding.” Derek paced back and forth, trying not to pull his hair too hard.

“Yes, they will be. Which is why I went ahead and booked one when we made our flight plans.” Derek stopped dead and looked at his boyfriend. Stiles gave a little half shrug before he continued, “I thought it would be for the best if we had somewhere to go if things got out of hand. If it wasn’t needed, then great. But if it was needed, for us to spend the night, or even just to have a couple hours alone to recharge, then we have that option. I’m sorry if that upsets you.”

“No, it was good thinking. I just...wish it wasn’t necessary.” Derek sat on the bed, and Stiles pressed against his side, hooking his chin over Derek’s shoulder and rubbing a hand up and down his back.

“Me too, baby.” They could still hear raised voices filtering up from downstairs. “What’s your main goal for this trip?”

Derek answered without hesitation, “To support Cora on her wedding day.”

Stiles nodded. “And my main goal is to support you. I feel that the best way for us to accomplish those things is for us to put some distance between us and your family. It’s a big change to go from the other side of the country to under the same roof, around the clock. We’ll join them for all the events and dinners they have planned, but I think we need to know that at the end of the day, it will be just you and me in our own space.”

Derek rubbed a hand over his face. His family would be pissed if they left. Then again, they were already pissed, so what difference would that make?

Stiles kissed Derek’s shoulder and then rubbed his face into his neck. “If I thought that staying in this house would be the best way to support Cora, then I would unpack our bags right now. But truthfully, I don’t. I think we're just going to detract from her day. Ultimately, it’s your choice. I’ll support your decision either way, I just wanted you to know all of your options. And it's not like it has to be cut and dry, one or the other. We could just get away for awhile then come back here, or we could stay here for now and change our minds later. Whatever you need.”

They sat together quietly while Derek weighed his options and listened to his family rage downstairs. Finally, he whispered, “I don’t want to stay here.”

“Then we won’t,” Stiles said, simply. He kissed Derek’s cheek and rose from the bed, then grabbed his suitcase and garment bag, and stood next to the door waiting for Derek to join him. Derek took a deep bracing breath and picked up his own luggage. He led the way out of the bedroom and back down the stairs.

They had just gotten the front door open when Cora stepped into the foyer and asked, “Where are you going?” She looked upset, but hesitant. Derek was sure she thought they were headed straight back to New York.

“The hotel in town. We’ll still be here for the wedding,” Derek assured her. A small amount of tension left her stiff frame. “We just think a little distance will help everyone. I don’t want our presence putting any more stress on you.”

Cora looked dubious, but she nodded, and let them head out the door. They managed to get their luggage in the rental before Laura exploded out of the house.

“Where the fuck do you think you're going?” She snarled. Derek cringed as her eyes flashed, her fangs and claws quickly bursting forth as she advanced on them.

“Well, for starters, we're getting right the fuck away from the werewolf gnashing her teeth at us.” Stiles slammed the truck closed and headed for the driver’s seat. “We’ll be back when you’ve all had a chance to calm down. Hopefully you manage that before tomorrow's lunch plans.”

Laura turned on Stiles sharply. “You can’t just leave. Cora’s wedding is in two days.”

Stiles gave her a withering look. “We aren’t leaving before the wedding, we’re just not staying here. You have two days to get your shit together enough to play happy family in front of the photographer. Now, as I said, we’ll see you tomorrow at lunch.”

Derek walked to the passenger side and buckled his seatbelt quickly, hoping Stiles would get in the car before Laura really freaked out. She looked like she was on the verge of losing it completely when she barked, “You don’t get to come into our territory and start ordering us around.”

“Neither do you, but that sure as hell didn’t stop you from trying to barge into our home, and it’s not stopping you from trying to control us now,” Stiles shouted back. “Cool off, Laura, this situation doesn’t need to get more fucked than it already is by you threatening me.”

The slam of Stiles’ car door hit Derek’s ears like a gunshot. He tried not to look at Laura fuming in their wake as they drove away. Stiles tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, agitation coursing through his body. 

“I’m sorry for making you do this,” Derek said, quietly.

“Der, no.” Stiles took Derek’s hand in one of his own. “You aren’t making me do anything. I love you, and I want to be wherever you are. Even if that happens to be in the middle of a group of hostile werewolves who hate my guts.”

“I feel so useless when I’m here.” Derek said, gripping Stiles’ hand tightly and tipping his head back against the seat. “This whole place just sucks out my energy until I can’t think anymore.”

Stiles hummed in understanding. They kept their hands together as much as possible as they finished the drive in silence.

The hotel check-in was quick and efficient, and before long, they were settled into their room. Derek went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, hoping it would make him feel less drained.

Rubbing a hand towel over his skin, he came back out of the bathroom and stretched out on his side on the bed, leaving the towel resting over his face. He felt the bed shift as Stiles climbed on behind him. 

“What can I do?” Stiles asked gently, slipping a hand under Derek’s t shirt.

“Maybe just..lay with me awhile?” Derek pulled the towel off to look at Stiles concerned face.

“I can do that.” Stiles draped himself along Derek’s back, wrapping around him like a snuggly octopus. They ended up with Stiles’ leg pinning Derek’s down, face pressed into the back of his neck, hand splayed over his heart. Derek drifted off listening to Stiles’ steady heartbeat.


	6. Chapter 6

They woke up ridiculously early, by Stiles’ standards. Derek made it up to him by taking advantage of the hotel’s indulgent shower before they went down to breakfast. Nothing went better together than blowjobs and great water pressure.

By nine o’clock they were on their way to meet Erica at the first property they wanted to see that day. Erica had been sending them options for weeks, and had lined up as many viewings as she could pack into the two days leading up to the wedding.

Derek was driving, since he was familiar with the streets of Beacon Hills and would actually know where they were going.

Stiles shuffled through his clipboard. He was armed with printouts, checklists, and a wealth of knowledge gained from bingeing on old episodes of House Hunters. 

Derek was armed with actual experience. 

When they pulled up behind Erica’s Toyota, in front of a suburban split level, Stiles burst out of the car. This was a brand new experience for him. He and Lydia had rented the shop, but she was the one who had found it, viewed it, and declared it to be theirs. It was one more chapter in the story of his life with Derek.

Erica waved to them from the front step, Derek’s father, Lyle, beside her. Stiles had only briefly met him the day before, but he got an impression of stoicism and bluntness. Though Derek’s appearance generally took after his mother, the resemblance to his father could be seen in their broad shoulders and strong jawlines.

“Morning,” Stiles called, cheerfully.

Lyle raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

“Hey, Dad,” Derek greeted after hugging Erica. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Thought you could use an extra set of eyes,” Lyle said gruffly.

Derek nodded, and let Erica lead them inside.

She pointed out features they’d decided they would need, and areas that would have to be changed. Stiles listened diligently, making notes. Derek asked all the right questions, and declared it a perfectly fine house, with a good structure. There weren’t any issues that some paint and elbow grease couldn’t fix.

Lyle didn’t say much, beyond, “It’s on the other side of town from the pack house.”

The second house tour was much the same, Erica demonstrating how good she was at her job, Stiles and Derek keeping their minds open. Lyle’s comment was, “Neighbourhood is busy. You won’t be able to shift at all.”

Erica was reluctant to even show them the third house. Sure enough, it left Stiles and Derek cold. Lyle claimed, “This one’s closer to the pack. Good temporary spot until you move home properly.

“Some people look at dozens of houses,” Erica reminded them, cheerfully. “We might not find it today, but I think the next one on the list is very promising.

The fourth house was a mid-century Victorian, set back from a quiet street, the closest neighbors a solid block away on either side. It had an overgrown garden and backed up onto the preserve.

Stiles saw weathered, peeling paint and cracks in the ceiling. The floors were either extremely scuffed or covered with stiff puke-green carpets. According to Erica, the plumbing was ancient and half the lights didn’t work.

Derek wandered around the house as he listened.

“It has five bedrooms, and an office space. There’s a shed and a greenhouse outside that you’ll want to take a look at. They’re both as rundown as the house, but the iron work on the greenhouse is stunning,” Erica explained.

“Do you know if this is loadbearing?” Derek asked, tapping the wall between the kitchen and formal dining room.

Erica smiled like a cat who got the cream. “I knew you’d ask that, so I checked the records. It isn’t, so you could easily knock it down.”

Derek asked similar questions throughout the house, growing even more enthusiastic with each room. Stiles trailed after them, clipboard forgotten. He loved watching Derek when he was like this. In his element, confident and excited.

It was the same way he’d been when he was purchasing his third warehouse. Where others saw a rundown building, Derek saw potential. He loved historical buildings, and adored the process of returning them to their former glory while adding a modern twist.

Of course, Lyle had trouble appreciating it’s charms. “This will be nothing but a money pit. You’ll waste all your resources trying to fix it, then move out before it's even livable.”

“The foundation is good, and the bones of the house are in good shape. It will take a lot of work, but I can do most of it on my own,” Derek said.

“How do you expect to afford this, Derek?” Lyle groused. “The pack won’t help you on some frivolous waste of time and money.”

“Good thing we’re both loaded, then. Huh, Der?” Stiles couldn’t help saying, with just a tiny bit of bite. He didn’t understand why Derek’s own father couldn’t see how happy a house like this would make him.

“The asking price is low because few people are willing to put the work in,” Erica interjected. “With the budget you gave me, you’d have more than enough to make this place a palace. Granite counter tops, hardwood floors. The whole nine yards.”

Lyle crossed his arms, looking even grumpier with every point in the house’s favour. “Well, then. Will you deign to stay with the pack while you fix it? You might as well bite the bullet now and just move in with us permanently.”

Stiles was surprised his eyes didn’t get stuck in the back of his head, he rolled them so hard. He ignored Lyle’s pessimism and focused on the practicalities. “How long would it take to make it livable and get it finished?” He asked Derek.

Derek shrugged. “It’s impossible to know for sure, but with the right team and minimal setbacks, I can get it fixed up enough that we can live in it within a few months. As for having it completed…”

“Never?” Erica teased.

Lyle grunted agreement and Derek snorted. “A few years at least.”

“Sounds like an adventure,” Stiles said with a smirk. “Erica, some of the locations you emailed me for the new storefront have apartment space above them, didn’t they?”

“Sure do,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“So, we make that a bit more of a priority. You had plenty of good options, so I’m sure we'll find something.” Stiles collected his clipboard to start writing out details he’d have to run by Lydia. “Once we finalize everything in New York, we can live there until this place is ready enough for habitation. I don’t mind roughing it for awhile, but I don’t want to get in the way.”

“I can put most of my attention here, while I’m rebuilding my client base,” Derek stole a piece of Stiles’ paper and started making lists of his own.

“Speaking of which, it’ll be good for business,” said Erica. “People will ask about what you’re up to in here and you can get a lot of traction from word of mouth.”

Lyle growled in the back of his throat. “You make it sound like this is a done deal. You shouldn’t rush into this. Take some time to think. Run it by Talia.”

“Talia’s an alpha, but I don’t think she knows much about property development,” Stiles pointed out, softly. “Whereas Derek has a an entire degree on the topic, and 7 years experience.”

Lyle stared at him, looking confused. Like it hadn’t occurred to him that this was Derek’s field, let alone that he might be an expert in it.

Derek chuckled in the corner, and called him over. Stiles leaned in to see what he’d found and Derek took his hand, then traced it over the wood next to the window. Stiles immediately recognized the feel of a rune, both the physical grooves and the power behind it.

“It means ‘welcome,’” Stiles said, smiling up at Derek. “I guess that mean’s it's ours.”

***

 

Erica promised to start the process of putting in an offer on the house right away. They decided to break for lunch with the pack as they’d promised, then look at a few potential places for the shop. Stiles wouldn’t be able to make any final decisions without Lydia, but he could still get the ball rolling.

He was hoping that Lyle would stay behind, since the store wasn’t any of his business. However, with the apartment situation on the table, Stiles suspected he would stick around for the sole purpose of being a Debbie Downer.

They pulled up to the house and parked in a spot where they couldn’t get blocked in, in case they needed a clean getaway. Laura was glaring at them from the porch. Stiles wondered if she was hoping they wouldn’t come just so she’d have a reason to be mad at them. 

Instead of coming to greet them, she stalked into the house, slamming the door behind her.

“Hello to you, too, Laur,” Derek muttered. 

Erica had told them Madelyn, Derek’s aunt who took charge of the kitchen, had planned for everyone to eat in the backyard. Stiles followed Derek around the side of the house, and the voices of the pack got louder. Everyone looked cheerful, like the tension from last night had never existed.

One of Derek’s cousins handed them some tablecloths, and they made quick work of spreading them over the picnic tables. It wasn’t long before they were sitting down at one of them to eat with Erica, Isaac, and Boyd.

Cora stopped by to say hello, but her fiancé and his parents were there, so she had to sit at the alpha’s table. Her fiancé came over to introduce himself as well. Stiles was relieved that he seemed pleasant enough, and treated Derek with respect for the brief exchange. 

Stiles tucked into his potato salad enthusiastically. He may not like Derek’s family, but they could sure cook.

***

Stiles was shocked when they managed to get through the entire meal without any of the Hales pissing him off. He chalked it up to being at separate tables. Less people talking to them resulted in less people insulting Derek. 

They even helped with clearing up in a peaceful manner, and there was only one scathing comment from Derek’s cousin Cleo, about them ducking out the night before. Boyd diffused the situation by calmly reminding her that she had been foisting dish duty on her younger sister for the past month.

After they deposited the dishes by the sink, Derek led Stiles over to meet another family member. Stiles was surprised to see that she had scars covering her arms, and realized she must be one of the human members of the pack.

Derek was stilted and tense, and avoided meeting her eyes. “Madelyn, I’d like to introduce you to my… my Stiles. Stiles, this is my Aunt Madelyn, Peter’s wife.”

Stiles instantly made the connection. She was the aunt who’d been severely injured in the fire Kate set. The entire pack had nearly died, but she’d suffered the greatest injury when she jumped through the flames to break the mountain ash barrier Kate had laid. Without her, they all would have died, and she’d nearly lost her life while saving them. 

Her husband Peter had been very close with Derek until the fire. He’d been consumed with the need for revenge and helping Madelyn recover. Even after twelve years, they hadn’t been able to rekindle their relationship. Derek didn’t know if Peter blamed him for the fire, because Peter hadn’t spoken to him directly since it happened. 

Madelyn greeted them with a welcoming smile. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Stiles. Welcome to the pack.”

Stiles was genuinely touched. None of the wolves had bothered to express the sentiment to him. He thought they either didn’t view him as part of their pack, or didn’t think he would understand because he was human. Madelyn clearly thought neither of these things.

“The pleasure is mine,” Stiles said. “I’m told you’re responsible for the fantastic food I’ve had here.”

Madelyn laughed warmly. “I oversee the kitchen but I have a lot of help. Werewolves’ heightened senses apply to their taste buds, too, so we have to make most things from scratch.”

“The effort certainly shows. You use fresh herbs, don’t you?” Stiles asked.

Madelyn nodded. “Celia has a green thumb and I reap the benefits.”

“Maybe you can give me some pointers after I set up my own herb garden.” Stiles suggested. He was a decent cook, but Madelyn’s food was to die for. He’d like to make the effort to bond with Derek’s pack and this seemed like a good way to start.

“I’d be happy to,” she said. 

“We should go grab Erica now,” Derek interjected.

“Of course. We’ll see you at dinner.” Madelyn surprised them both with a casual hug before sending them off. 

Erica was waiting by their car. As soon as she saw them, she waved for them to hurry over. “I’ll just ride with you, you have to come back later anyway.”

She shooed them along and hopped into the back seat. 

Derek started down the drive and Stiles asked, “Aren’t we waiting for--”

“ _Shh_!” Erica hissed, smacking his shoulder. She finally let him speak when they were well away from the house.

“No Lyle?” Stiles drawled.

Erica huffed. “You know, I like Lyle. He’s a good guy. Calm, efficient, and honest. But I thought I was going to have to strangle him this morning.” 

“Guess I bring out the worst in people,” Derek murmured.

Stiles' heart sank. “Derek, no.”

Derek shrugged. “Erica is right, Stiles. He’s a good guy--”

“For fucksake, Derek, he’s your father,” Stiles burst out. “He’s not supposed to belittle your choices and ignore what you want. I don’t care if he’s the goddamn Pope, if he treats you like shit, then he’s not a good guy in my books.”

“It isn’t that simple--”

“Derek.” Stiles put his hand on Derek’s leg. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It’s not fair that they treat you this way,” Erica said, quietly.

Derek gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. He nodded, but didn’t say anything. Stiles knew from the hundreds of times they’d had this conversation, that was the best he would get. He butted his head against Derek’s shoulder and asked Erica about their first destination.

The afternoon was just as successful as the morning, but without the snide comments. They viewed seven different possibilities, and narrowed their list down to two choices. Stiles called Lydia on the way back for dinner and promised to email her his notes and pictures.

“Looks like we won’t have to devote tomorrow to house hunting,” Stiles said over dinner. They were tucked in the corner with their favourite quartet again, and had received enthusiastic congratulations on the success of their mission.

“Maybe we can swing by the library instead. I’m drowning in emails.” Derek said.

“You can come here and use my laptop if you want,” Cora offered.

Derek nodded. “That would be great, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Cora gave him a tight smile. “I’ll be getting ready for the rehearsal dinner so I won’t need it.” She tapped her fingers nervously.

Derek gave her a reassuring shoulder squeeze. “I’m sure the wedding will be wonderful.”

“It’s not the wedding I’m worried about so much as the marriage,” Cora muttered.

Derek sat up straighter, brow furrowing in concern. “Are you getting cold feet, Cora?”

Cora shook her head firmly. “No, I’m going to go through with this, it’s the right thing to do. Michael is a good guy, and having this connection to the Rodriguez family will solidify the pack’s standing for Laura. I just...I would have liked to have more time to get to know him, before it all became about pack connections and politics. We only went on three dates before Mom and Alpha Rodrigez were making noises about marriage.”

Stiles hadn’t realized that Cora and Michael’s happiness wasn’t the main reason for the wedding. He’d fallen for Derek almost instantly, but he couldn’t imagine being pushed into such a commitment when he wasn’t ready. 

Derek looked like he either wanted to hide Cora away so she never had to do anything she wasn’t sure of or find someone to beat the pulp out of on her behalf.

Cora laughed at him and rested her hand on his cheek. “It’s okay, Der, really. Michael and I have talked about it, and we’re willing to give it our best shot. There will be plenty of time for romance after we’re married.”

Derek took her at her word, and they tried to move on to less fraught topics, but the mood had clouded with apprehension and they were all subdued for the remainder of the evening.

***

The house was already in a tizzy when Derek and Stiles arrived the next morning. Workers from the party rental company were setting up the first of many tents, and tables and chairs were being carried to their designated areas. One aunt was hollering at cousins carrying flowers, while another was ranting over seat covers. 

No one came to greet them at the porch, so they let themselves in. Derek thought they might make it to the study where Cora had left her laptop for him to use without having to interact with anyone in his family. His hopes were dashed in the hallway when Laura swooped out of nowhere, carrying Gavin on her hip, with several other children in her wake. Derek suspected that some of the kids were from the Rodrigez pack, because he was pretty sure he didn’t have _that_ many cousins under the age of 13.

Laura thrust the three year old into his arms and kept walking. Derek and Gavin stared at each other for a second in horror before Gavin started screaming.

“Uh, Laura?” Derek called. 

“Just keep them out of trouble. Everyone is busy with decorations. Since you can’t be trusted with that, you might as well be useful in here,” Laura called over her shoulder.

Part of Derek wanted to protest that he was perfectly capable of carrying tables, chairs and flowers around, but he didn’t actually want to. In fact, he really did need to get some work done, and there was no chance of that if he was being eviscerated by his aunt for not putting a peony in the right spot.

Laura disappeared down the hallway and Derek was left with a group of children he barely knew, all of them staring at him expectantly, while Gavin the Hellspawn wailed in his arms.

“Well,” Stiles said, clapping his hands like he’d made a decision. He took Gavin from Derek and perched him on his hip. “Enough of that,” he said firmly. Gavin stopped mid squall, looking up at him in surprise. “Great. Let's see what sort of fun we can find in the study, huh?”

He set off through the double doors and Derek and the kids trailed after him. It wasn’t long before Derek was seated at Cora’s laptop while the children danced wildly around him. Trust Stiles to have enough School House Rock and Disney songs on his phone to endear himself to a group of kids. Derek was almost enjoying himself, watching Stiles groove around belting out the songs. And really, there was nothing quite like seeing a nine-year-old try to twerk to _Conjunction Junction_. 

Madelyn brought them sandwiches for lunch, then the afternoon was filled with a few rousing games of Duck Duck Goose and Simon Says. When Stiles finally got too tired to keep up with the children, the majority of whom were werewolves, he found a collection of Robert Munsch books. Even the older children found his renditions amusing, and Derek gave up on the rest of his work to enjoy them.  
They were singing a strange mix of _Mortimer’s Song_ and _Mr. Morton_ when Derek’s sister-in-law Jenny came in. Derek’s older brother had been married for almost ten years, but Derek felt the same disconnect with her that he did with the rest of the pack. Memories of close connections overshadowed by fresher ones of resentment and biting comments. 

She quickly zeroed in on Derek where he sat at the large table, faced pinched. “I thought Laura asked you to watch the children.”

Derek squinted in confusion and pointed at the group of children piled around the couches a few feet away from him. “I thought I was.”

“Well, it certainly doesn’t look that way to me,” Jenny sniped. “In fact, it looks like you’ve abandoned them to a stranger.”

“Stiles isn’t a stranger, he’s got _Princess and the Frog_ music!” Penny explained from her place cuddled against Stiles’ side. At the tender age of five, she clearly had her priorities straight, and anyone who could shake it like Mama Odie was okay in her books.

Jenny tried to muster a smile for her. “You only just met him, honey.”

“Technically, we only just met Derek, too,” Jasper pointed out. At twelve, he was one of the oldest in the group, and had clearly been nonplussed to be left with the other children when the day had started. Stiles had won him over with a video game debate that Derek hadn’t understood a word of.

Jenny gaped at him for a moment, trying to form an excuse for her accusations. “Well, that’s different. Derek is pack.” 

Hannah piped up, “Isn’t Stiles pack? He’s Derek’s boyfriend. They love each other like Cora and Michael, so their packs are gonna be connected.”

Jenny glared at Derek and he just lifted an eyebrow. Stiles was his mate, and he saw no reason to hide that. Jenny huffed at his apparent indifference, crossing her arms. “Stiles is human.”

“He can still be pack though, can’t he?” Marissa asked, softly. She was one of the few human members of the Hale pack, and her tone held all the vulnerability that position entailed. 

Jenny froze. She stared down at Marissa, completely at a loss for how to pull herself out of the situation. Derek was almost tempted to leave her to flounder, but he didn’t want Marissa to have the event fester as negative reinforcement.

“Of course, Stiles is pack,” Derek said casually. “He’s a very important part of my pack, because he reminds my wolf of my own humanity.” He wasn’t sure if that made sense to the children at this stage of their relationships with their own wolf nature, but he hoped it would at least be a start.

“And he needs you to keep him safe right?” Penny asked.

Derek chuckled. “Not a chance. I might be physically stronger than Stiles, but he could kick my butt in a second if he wanted to.”

Penny looked between them dubiously. Stiles laughed, “Awe, thanks, Der, but my magic isn’t that strong.”

Derek snorted. “Uh huh. Stiles, I remember when that elf tried to rob the shop. I don’t think his hair will ever grow back.”

“Maybe not the top,” Stiles said with a wink. Some of the kids giggled. “Anyway, did you need something, Jenny, or were you just dropping in to say a friendly hello?” His tone and words were perfectly friendly, but Derek didn’t miss the reprimand and he didn’t think Jenny did either.

“The kids need to get ready for the rehearsal dinner,” Jenny said. “They need to head back to their parents to get changed.”

“Well then, urchins,” Stiles said dramatically. “I bid you adieu.”

Stiles and Derek received a few hugs each, and a fistbump from Jasper as the children filed out, calling goodbyes that were outrageously mournful considering they would see them the next day.

Jenny, hesitated at the door, looking back at Derek. He wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but she settled on, “See you tomorrow,” before slipping out the door.

Stiles flopped onto his back on the couch. “What a day.”

“Thanks for keeping them occupied,” Derek said, perching on the couch next to Stiles hip.

Stiles waved dismissively. “I didn’t have anything else I needed to do.”

“Still.” Derek leaned over to kiss Stiles. “Thanks.” He kissed him again, deeper, running his hands up Stiles’ sides. The kiss turned filthy fast as he licked into Stiles’ mouth.

“Mmm,” Stiles hummed. “What’s got you all excited?” Derek pulled back, shrugging awkwardly. “I’m not complaining,” Stiles said quickly.

Derek laced their fingers together, resting against Stiles. He wasn’t really sure how exactly to voice the effect of seeing Stiles with children. Stiles waited patiently while Derek pushed up Stiles’ sleeve and traced the ink patterns on his arm. 

Finally, Derek said, “You were really good with them.”

“The kids?” Derek nodded and Stiles grinned. “Were you overwhelmed by my child rearing prowess? Enamoured by my candidacy as a potential co-parent?”

Derek felt his face flush with embarrassment, so he hid it in the crook of Stiles’ neck.

Stiles squirmed with glee. “You were, weren't you? Feeling the urge for the pitter patter of little feet, Der?” Derek sighed into Stiles’ neck and nodded. Stiles stilled. “Yeah?”

He let Stiles pull him up to see his face. He couldn’t bring himself to voice how pleasing he found the idea. _Their_ child, one they could love, cherish and raise together. He nodded again, hoping Stiles would understand.

Stiles smiled up at him. “I think I’d like that, too.” Derek kissed him again, until Stiles pushed him away and sat up. “Something to look into, that's for sure. But right now, shall we blow this pop stand?”

“God yes,” Derek said, pulling Stiles up from the couch. They weren’t needed for the rehearsal dinner, and he was getting hungry. He was also looking forward to spending time alone with Stiles, without the guilt of avoiding his pack hanging over his head. 

He would see more than enough of the pack at the wedding tomorrow.

***

Derek shuffled awkwardly down the row of white chairs, trying not to grip Stiles’ hand too hard. The wedding hadn’t even started yet, and Derek already felt strangled by his tie and agitated by the sheer volume of people. 

The ceremony would commence soon, under the beautiful flowered arch, set up in a large clearing in the preserve near the Hale house. Over three hundred people were gathered to witness it before returning to the Hale house in droves for dinner and an open bar.

“The decorations turned out well,” Stiles said, pointing to the flowers and fabrics draped and pinned throughout the massive white tent.

“‘S’ nice,” Derek said. And it was, really very nice. But he didn’t want to be here crammed in with all these people. He felt like his family was just waiting for him to fuck up and ruin the whole wedding. He dropped into the seat next to Isaac and pulled Stiles down beside him.

The man in front them glanced back and did a double take, “Stilinski,” he exclaimed, standing to shake Stiles hand.

“Alpha Walton, what a pleasant surprise,” Stiles said, jumping up from his seat. “You’re a friend of the Hales?”

“Alpha Hale and I have been allies for a very long time. I was honoured to receive an invitation to such a joyful event,” Alpha Walton said, graciously. “And you?” 

“This is my partner, Derek Hale, he’s one of the bride’s brothers,” Stiles explained. Derek rose to accept a handshake from the alpha. He did his best to show the respectful amount of deference without appearing weak. 

Alpha Walton seemed satisfied enough with Derek’s behaviour as he introduced his wife and chatted with Stiles while they waited for the wedding to start. They sat down again as Talia was led to her seat by Derek’s older brother, Martin. The groom took his place at the archway with his groomsmen.

The harpist played a gentle melody while Cora’s bridesmaids entered one by one. Isabella, Erica, Jenny and Michael’s sister, Michelle, looked radiant in their pale green gowns. Erica winked at them mischievously on her way by. Laura followed in her dark green dress as Matron of Honour. Michael's nephew took his job as ring bearer very seriously, while the two young ladies chosen as flower girls giggled their way up the aisle.

The harpist began the bridal march, and everyone rose for Cora’s entrance. Derek’s little sister looked radiant as she glided down the aisle, but it was the look of joy and adoration on Michael’s face that touched Derek’s heart.

The harp went silent, and the Hale pack’s emissary, Deaton, began the ceremony. Derek tried to watch diligently, but his attention kept straying to Stiles. He took in the soft look on his face, listened to his happy sighs and imagined what their own wedding day could be like. They cheered as Michael kissed the bride and by the twinkle in Stiles’ eyes, Derek thought he was envisioning the same thing. 

***

When Derek’s aunts had fought over the seating arrangements, they hadn't really factored in that, while Derek was admittedly not the most social individual, Stiles was a goddamn butterfly. He already knew many of the alphas in attendance through Scott or his work as a witch, and many of the ones who hadn’t met him were anxious for an introduction because they’d heard of how powerful he was.

Derek let the conversation flow around him through dinner as Stiles discussed chimeras, mushrooms and locator charms with their table mates. They tried to head over to the bar together, but Stiles kept being waylaid. Derek ended up going to the bar himself, and bringing a Jack and Coke back for Stiles. He was pleased to see that Stiles would have no trouble rekindling his business now that they were on opposite coasts.

He loved watching Stiles in large groups. Derek adored his gestures, his laugh, even the rants he would get distracted with. He also liked watching people as they met him. Some people were fascinated, others shocked but by the end of the interaction, more were charmed, however begrudgingly.

They were talking with Alpha Walton again when Cedric came up to them. “I hope you’re not being bored over here by my cousin’s inability to answer with more than one syllable,” Cedric said, he gave Alpha Walters a smarmy smile, then looked at Derek with a pointed flick to suggest he should get lost.

Alpha Walton put a friendly hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Stiles always has more than enough to say for the both of them. In fact, we were having a fascinating conversation on the hexes Stiles has mastered.”

Cedric looked like he was about to make a snide comment when Stiles gave him a bright predatory grin, and said, “My, Mr. Wolf, what nice hair you have. Would be a shame if something were to...happen to it.” 

Cedric looked stricken while Alpha Walton laughed. Derek suppressed his own chuckle and pulled Stiles away. “Come dance with me.”

They wove through the crowd and found a spot on the dance floor. Derek pulled him in close and moved in time with slow beat. He was pleased with the success of the evening, full of delicious food and pleasantly buzzed from the wolfsbane-infused liquor. 

He almost lost his rhythm when he saw his mother watching them critically. He didn’t think he’d done anything recently to piss her off, so he ignored her, burying his senses in Stiles. She went out of his mind completely when Erica jumped on his back and some of the children crowded around Stiles to beg him to dance.


	7. Chapter 7

“You want some water?” Derek asked.

Stiles was pretty comfortable settled onto the porch with Derek, but he was still vaguely hungover from the wedding the day before, so he nodded, shifting so Derek could get up. 

Erica smirked at him from her place on the grass, snuggled into Boyd’s side. “Screw you, Erica. I know for a fact you were drunk as a skunk last night.”

Isaac and Boyd chuckled at her indignant gasp while Derek slipped into the house. When the door opened again, Stiles expected it to be Derek, so he jumped when Talia spoke.

“Stiles, could I speak to you for a moment,” she said. She held herself with regal formality, so he assumed she meant privately. 

He hadn’t interacted much with Talia, since she’d been so busy with the wedding, and he was slightly nervous. She was Derek’s alpha and he knew exactly how casually vicious she could be.

Talia led him into her office and sat at her desk, gesturing for him to take the seat across from her. Stiles was 90% sure she had chosen that setup purposefully to intimidate him, rather than making the meeting more relaxed by sitting next to him. He sat down gingerly, already feeling tense.

She looked at him appraisingly, then slid a business card across the desk toward him. Stiles didn’t reach for it, but he could see the neatly printed business title on the front, followed by contact information, and recognized the name of one of the alphas he had met the night before. “What’s this?” he asked.

“I believe you met Alpha Pearson last night. His pack is looking for a magic user to affiliate with their pack, train as an official emissary,” Talia said.

Stiles nodded. “I’m sure I have a few contacts that might suit him. I can put out the word and see if anyone is interested.” 

Talia raised her eyebrow slightly while the rest of her face stayed completely impassive. “Stiles, I believe you would find the connection to the Pearson pack appealing.”

Stiles’ jaw clenched and he tried so hard not to jump to conclusions. “Why is that, Alpha Hale?”

“Well, it’s very clear that you wanted to expand your power by joining our pack. I can understand the appeal, but we don’t need another emissary,” Talia explained.

“Good thing I’m not an emissary then,” Stiles said softly.

“I’m sure the Pearson pack will be happy to provide you with the training you need,” Talia pressed.

“And Derek? Will you be sending Derek to the Pearson pack as well?” Stiles dug his nails into the flesh of his palm.

“Of course not. Derek has only just returned home,” Talia said, flicking her hand dismissively.

“I think you must have been misinformed,” Stiles said, trying to keep the irritation from his tone. “I have no interest in joining someone else's pack. I already have one of my own.”

Talia frowned. “Stiles, you are not a part of this pack. We will not give you the power and prestige you want. It’s best for everyone if you try your luck with Pearson.”

“Best for everyone,” Stiles echoed.

“Yes, of course,” Talia said. “The Pearsons will have an emissary, you’ll have the power of a pack to feed your spark, and Derek will be free to find someone more suitable.”

Anger roiled through Stiles blood. Talia had barely bothered to say a word to him since he’d come here, and now she was suggesting that he was there because he wanted a werewolf connection, instead of because he loved her son. He could understand her not knowing him well enough to see that he couldn’t care less about power. But he didn’t understand how she could think so little of her son that she would believe Stiles would only be with him to get to his pack. 

“Suitable,” Stiles said harshly. “Like the arranged marriage you pressured Cora into?” 

Talia looked slightly taken aback by his tone, even though she could surely smell his anger. “I don’t expect you to understand, being human, but pack relations are very important. We’ll find Derek someone who will be good for him and the pack, since his own judgement obviously can’t be trusted.”

At first, Stiles thought she was referring to him. Perhaps in part, she was, but her gaze flicked to something on her desk. Stiles stared down at the charred wooden figure of a wolf. His anger turned to ice in his veins as the implication set in.

Stiles thought of all the times he had held Derek tight, murmuring that it wasn’t his fault. He thought of everything Derek had told him about Kate, and the grief in Derek’s eyes when he was reminded of Paige. He remembered all the times they had been woken in the middle of the night by a phone call from the pack because none of them cared enough to consider time zones. He pictured Derek’s face as he waited patiently for his alpha to finish berating him over the phone.

Stiles had tried so hard not to hate Talia on Derek’s behalf, but staring at the reminder of the day Derek’s life burned up around him, Stiles felt something inside him snap.

“His judgement on what?” Stiles said. He watched Talia’s metaphorical hackles rise at the steel in his voice, but continued before she had time to interject. “Do you mean his first girlfriend? Do you mean the judgement he had to make when an enemy of yours bit her and her body rejected it? I’m really not sure I could have made the judgement to slit her throat rather than force her through the suffering.

“Or maybe you mean the people he dated in New York before he met me. None of them lasted very long because according to you, it wasn’t really his _judgement_ to make, on whether they were told about werewolves. It doesn’t seem like that’s what you’re talking about, but it must be. Right, Alpha Hale? You couldn’t possibly be talking about Derek’s relationship with Kate Argent, could you?” Stiles watched Talia stiffen and rise from her chair.

“I will not have you speak to me--”

“I’m not done yet.” Stiles said, standing. “You want to talk about Derek’s judgement of Kate? Let’s talk. I have been dying to ask you about it. Maybe you can explain to me, how in a household of werewolves, not a single one noticed that Derek’s teacher had taken a _special interest_ in him. I’ve seen how much you interfere with your pack’s lives. Where were you, _Alpha_? Why didn’t you notice when someone took advantage of him?”

“You don’t understand,” Talia sputtered.

“No, I don’t,” Stiles said. “Well, that’s not quite true. I understand that these things happen. I’m the son of a sheriff. Good parents miss the signs all the time. What I don’t understand is how you treated him when he told you. He trusted you and you blamed him.”

“He knew what she was, he should have known better,” Talia hissed.

“He was 16!” Stiles shouted. “I know what statutory rape is. She took advantage of his grief, she tricked him and then tried to murder his family. He was hurt. You’re his fucking mother, you were supposed to protect him, but instead you punished him for it.”

“That isn’t--” Talia broke off when the door opened.

Derek stared at her, pale and tense, before turning to Stiles. “What’s happening?”

Stiles looked down and shook his head. He was too angry to explain.

Talia cleared her throat. “I was explaining to Stiles that I don’t think he’s a good fit for our pack. I’ve made arrangements for him to train with a different alpha.”

“You’re sending us away?” Derek asked. Stiles looked up and nearly whimpered at the look of hurt and confusion on Derek’s face.

Talia wouldn’t meet his eyes, staring blindly behind her son. “No, Derek. I’m sending him on his own.”

Derek stepped back like he had been struck. “I...Are you punishing me?”

“What?” Talia asked with confusion.

“You are, aren’t you. I’ve fucked something up again,” Derek said, desperately. “Please, Alpha, don’t--”

“I’m not punishing you, Derek,” Talia said, looking between them. “This is for the good of the pack.”

Derek shook his head slowly. “It's never going to be enough, is it?”

Talia huffed in irritation. “Derek, what are you talking about?”

“You’re never going to forgive me.” Derek said softly. Stiles stomach cramped with misery at Derek’s numb expression. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I moved away from the pack so you wouldn’t have to see me, but that wasn’t good enough. I came back because you told me to, but that wasn’t good enough either, you still want me to be miserable.”

“Derek, don’t be ridiculous.” Talia scoffed. She sounded like she genuinely didn’t know what Derek meant, but Stiles didn’t think that could possibly be true.

Derek shook his head sadly. “If you can’t bring yourself to forgive me, then so be it. We’ll go.”

“Go?” Talia echoed. “You don’t mean you’ll leave the pack.”

Derek nodded. “You don’t want us here.”

“You can’t just leave, Derek,” Talia said, incredulously. “You’d be an omega, you wouldn’t survive that.”

Derek huffed a short, humourless laugh. “You know, when the fire first happened, I was sure you’d cast me out. I tried so hard to do whatever you wanted, to take whatever you said, because I was terrified of being alone.” He walked over and linked his hand with Stiles’. “I don’t care anymore. Even being an omega must be better than being detested by your own pack.”

“You don’t need to stay with them to have a pack, and you don’t need to be an omega,” Stiles told him softly. Turning to Talia he said, “If you had cared enough about Derek to learn about me, you’d know that when I said I already had a pack, I didn’t mean yours. Alpha McCall will value Derek as a beta, the way he should have been valued years ago.”

Derek tugged him close for a moment, then led him to the door.

“Stop,” Talia growled, “Derek, I am your mother, you can’t just abandon your family.”

Derek turned to her, and shook his head. “You haven’t been my mother in years. Just the alpha who couldn’t forgive a teenager’s mistake.”

Stiles followed Derek out of the office, and barely registered Erica standing in the hallway, crying silently between Isaac and Boyd.

He was taken aback to see Peter blocking the way, looking murderous. Madelyn was at his side, her nails digging into his arm. 

Derek stopped briefly, in front of them.“I’m sorry,” he whispered and slipped past.

Stiles could hear Talia howl as they drove away from the house, but Derek didn’t even flinch.

***

Derek pushed his face deeper into the hotel pillow. He could feel Stiles wrapped around him, and the weight of the blankets, and he didn’t understand why he still felt so cold. He tightened his arm around Stiles, and shivered. He wanted to howl or cry or shout or _something,_ but he couldn’t. He was too exhausted, the feeling of numbness having seeped into his bones.

Someone tapped lightly on the door and it sounded far away and yet it echoed through his head. Stiles pulled away from him and he whimpered. “Shh, babe, it’s okay. I’ll be right back,” Stiles murmured. Derek reluctantly relinquished his hold, and tried to burrow further into the bed.

He could hear Stiles talking by the door, but he couldn’t focus on what he was saying. He breathed in deep to catch the person's scent. “Erica?”

Stiles got back into the bed and Derek latched onto him immediately. He felt Erica’s familiar presence slip in behind him. “Hey,” he mumbled. 

She pressed her face against his shoulder. “Hi Der,” she whispered. The mattress dipped as Isaac and Boyd climbed onto the bed and settled around them.

“What are you doing here?” Derek asked, brushing his hand through Isaac’s curls where they were resting on Derek’s hip.

“If you’re leaving, so are we,” Erica said.

Derek shivered, “Erica, you can’t--”

“Yes, I can,” Erica insisted. “You don’t get to make that decision for us.” She sighed and tried to soothe him with a hand along his side. “Derek, we all knew that Talia’s been upset with you, but we never knew why. The fire was before we were bitten, and though we knew it was connected, we never dreamed…God, Derek, she never should have treated you that way.”

“The whole pack was almost killed,” Derek said, cringing away from her.

“No, Derek.” Stiles said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Derek had heard Stiles say that a hundred times, but he could never quite believe him. He shivered again as his three packmates echoed the sentiment.

He lost track of time and jolted when someone knocked briskly at their door. Boyd hopped up and barely had the door open before Peter pushed his way inside, his eyes gleaming with fury. 

Derek cringed as his uncle approached the bed, waiting for some sort of blow. Be it physical or emotional, he was too exhausted to fend him off.

Instead of lashing out Peter nudged Isaac over and settled onto the bed. Madelyn and Boyd piled on after him.

Derek stayed frozen for a moment then looked down at his uncle, then up at Stiles. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” he said quietly.

“Me neither,” Stiles whispered back.

Madelyn chuckled from the end of the bed and poked Peter in the side.

“I thought it was perfectly clear,” Peter said, blithely. Madelyn poked him harder and he sighed dramatically. “I’m angry with my sister because I didn’t get the chance to slit Kate Argent's throat. What more is there to it?”

“What?” Derek sat up so he could see Peter better.

“Peter, stop being so cryptic, it's annoying,” Madelyn scolded.

“Yes, but very good stress relief,” Peter said grinning at her. She tugged his ear and he rolled his eyes. “Fine. When Kate set the house on fire and Madelyn was hurt, I had a bit of trouble handling things.”

“I remember,” Derek said. He imagined what it would be like to have Stiles’ scent drowned out by pain and charred flesh the way Madelyn’s had been and thought he might have gone a bit crazy too.

“A bit of trouble?” Madelyn scoffed. “You were practically psychotic.”

Peter waved his hand dismissively. “Details. The point is, I wanted Kate and all the people who helped her dead. Madelyn disagreed, so I refrained.”

“Barely,” Madelyn grumbled.

“So I asked Talia, as alpha, to have Kate punished properly. She said she had no way to prove that Kate set the fire, and accepted compensation from Kate’s brother, instead of having her tried by humans. Talia used the money to rebuild the house of course, but Kate was sent off to live her live freely, while my Madelyn--”

Madelyn hushed him as he grew too irritated, his blue eyes flashing. 

When he got himself under control, he continued. “If Talia knew that Kate had used you like that, she could have contacted the police and Kate would have been imprisoned for having sex with a minor. Of course, that wouldn’t be as much as she deserved, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“Why didn’t she, then?” Erica asked. “Why didn’t she have Kate arrested?”

Peter sighed. “Most hunters and werewolves agree that we should avoid involving human authorities as much as possible. In most cases, I agree. This was different. Kate broke their so-called hunter’s code. An unofficial agreement should not have been enough to hold Talia back.”

Madelyn rubbed Peter’s shoulder. “It’s too late now. We can’t go back and change what happened.” Derek thought the way she said it was a lot like how Stiles said _it’s not your fault_. Like she’d repeated it to him over and over, but still believed every word even if he couldn’t. “But if that bitch ever gets near this town again, you have my full permission to rip her throat out.”

Peter sat up in surprise. “Why, darling, that’s so generous of you. Why the change of heart?”

Madelyn shrugged. “I didn’t want her dead on my behalf. I couldn’t live with that. But she fucked with Derek. She used him, and ruined his life in the process. That, I can’t let go.”

Derek was surprised to hear Madelyn sound so harsh, but then anyone who could love Peter as much as she did had to hold an inner strength of epic proportions. 

“Are you leaving the pack too, then?” Isaac asked.

Peter shrugged, “Probably. I’m not sure I can accept Talia as my alpha without understanding why she made the decisions she did. She’s my sister, but if I can’t trust her judgement, I can’t be her beta.”

Derek felt the same way. He didn’t want to leave his pack, but he couldn’t live like that anymore. It was reassuring to have Peter voice the same concerns. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Stiles said. Derek snuggled back into him, and tried to let his worry go. There would be plenty of time to deal with the tough things tomorrow.

***

Stiles called Scott in the morning, and an invitation was extended to all of them to come meet the McCall pack in his territory and see if they would be comfortable there. Derek was nervous that he wouldn’t get along as well with Scott in person as he did over skype.

The rest of their motley crew were waiting in their own cars while Stiles leaned against the driver’s side door, watching Derek load up their luggage. He was just closing the trunk when Talia’s BMW pulled up next to them.

Derek’s first instinct was to get in the car and drive as fast as he could. His second was to go to his alpha and take it all back, promise to do whatever she wanted so he wouldn’t have to leave. He compromised by rounding the car to stand with Stiles, taking strength from his mate but standing his ground. 

He met Talia’s eyes and was shocked at how tired she looked. In Derek’s mind, she was always strong and confident, even when he thought she was harsh. He never imagined viewing her as weakened. 

“Could I speak with you a moment, please, Derek,” She asked. Her voice was steady, but it lacked the power he was accustomed to hearing. 

Derek tightened his arm around Stiles. “We can talk right here.”

Talia nodded reluctantly. “I just came to say...Oh, Derek, I’m so sorry.”

Derek never expected her to be here to apologize. The heartache in her eyes took him completely by surprise. 

“I was so focused on keeping you safe, keeping you as part of the pack, I didn’t realize that I was the one pushing you away,” Talia said. “I didn’t blame you for the fire, I blamed myself. I should have been able to protect the pack and I didn’t. I should have protected you, and I failed. But I couldn’t focus on that, couldn’t admit that I had failed as an alpha when my pack needed me more than ever. I couldn’t accept the blame, so I pushed it onto you. It wasn’t intentional, but I started criticizing you because I couldn’t stop and criticize myself. I could feel you slipping away and it felt like if I could keep you, I could keep the pack. But I held on too tight and crushed you without realizing. The fire was never your fault, not in any way.”

Derek shook his head, “I shouldn’t have trusted her. It’s my fault she--”

“She would have found another way,” Talia said solemnly. “If I’d paid more attention to what was happening in your life, maybe she wouldn’t have had the chance to hurt you that way.”

Derek wanted to believe her, but years of pain and resentment didn’t just disappear in a flash. He focused on what Peter had said the night before. “Why didn’t you go to the police? Why didn’t you have her punished?”

Talia sighed. “I should have. I failed you all over again with that. I don’t expect you to understand, but I thought it was for the best. There was no way she would take the accusations without a fight. She and her father would have done everything they could to make sure she went free. I didn’t want to have you suffer through a trial, only for her to bribe the judge and get off. It’s not a good enough reason, I know. I should have done more.”

Derek closed his eyes and Stiles hugged him close. “Every time you looked at me, everything you said...You were so disappointed.”

“Not in you, Derek. I was disappointed in myself,” Talia insisted. “There was so much to deal with and I let you slip through the cracks. I couldn’t let that happen again, so I focused on everything that could go wrong before it did. No one is perfect, and every time I was proved right, it made me feel justified. But that was never because I was disappointed in you. I guess I thought it was better for you to hear it from your family than wait to be shot down by the outside world. I was upset that even after waiting for something bad to happen, I still couldn’t keep you from being hurt.”

“How did belittling everything I do, and trying to get rid of my mate seem like the solution to that?” Derek cried.

Talia recoiled. “I thought...I didn’t realize how much he meant to you. I thought he was using you and I couldn’t let that happen again. As for the rest… Derek, I let everything get out of hand and there is no way for me to excuse my behaviour. I’m so sorry, bear.”

Derek heart ached. Talia hadn’t called him that in years, and he hadn’t let himself think about how much he missed it. Missed his mom. “So, where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know,” Talia said. “I don’t want you to leave. If you decide not to stay with our pack, I...I can make arrangements for you to stay in New York, if that’s what you want. Or if you want to join this pack of Stiles’, I’ll do what I can to make that happen. I wish you wouldn’t, though. I wish you’d stay.”

Derek looked to Stiles for help. Stiles just smiled sadly and shook his head. “This isn’t my decision to make. I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you. You’re the one who’s had to deal with this, so you’re the one who decides where to go from here.” Stiles kissed Derek’s cheek then burst out, “I will say though, either way, I think you could all use a shit ton of therapy.”

Derek laughed, slightly hysterical, and Talia looked completely shocked. Derek offered her a tentative smile. “Maybe we could try that?”

“Sure. We could try that,” she agreed.

“Erica?” Derek called. Erica was already out of her car and listening to the exchange.

“I’m with you, Der,” she agreed. “Wherever that is.” 

“Peter?” Talia asked.

“He’ll try, too,” Madelyn said. Peter’s objection was cut off by her forceful look.

“Shall I go get our hotel room back?” Stiles asked.

Talia looked like she was about to protest, but she stopped herself, shutting her mouth with a soft click.

It was a small concession, but Derek thought it was a very good start.


	8. Epilogue

Derek sat on the lawn in the bright sunny backyard. It was lush green and surrounded by trees. The house behind him still had a lot of work to be done, but for Derek, it was home. Contentment and joy radiated from him as he leaned back against the steps.

Stiles came out of the house and sat down on the step behind him, bracing his legs against Derek’s sides. They sat together quietly for a moment, taking in the flutter of leaves, the sun dancing over the walls of Stiles’ greenhouse and gentle breeze playing over the water in the birdbath.

“Ready?” Stiles asked quietly.

Derek nodded. He hadn’t had a chance to drop by the pack house in a week, and he was pleased to find he was looking forward to it. After three years of family therapy, tense meetings and creating new memories, Derek finally felt like a true part of his pack, loved and respected by its members, and welcomed at every gathering. 

it didn't happen overnight. These things never do. The whole pack had to change their point of view, break the ingrained habit and that took work for all of them.

It was a lot like the house. So much had to be torn out before rebuilding. In the very earlier days, there were times the pack fell into their old ways but Stiles was always there to point it out. Also, Derek learned to stand up for himself and show his pack--but more importantly, himself--his strength and value. He’d also received an apology from each and every pack member, even those who just stood aside in indifference and a promise to do better. Even Cedric had stumbled through one.

He leaned back against Stiles for a moment, reveling in the hum of his pack bond, and the feel of his mate against him. 

Derek stood and offered a hand to pull Stiles up with him. “Did we remember to wrap the present?”

“Boy, did I.” Stiles said. He sauntered into the house and grabbed the large shiny purple gift bag on his way by. “Your car or mine?”

Derek shrugged, so Stiles grabbed the keys for his jeep. The trip to the pack house was short and easy. A relaxing drive they’d done so often it was like muscle memory.

As soon as they put the car in park, pack members descended on them. Derek let their welcome wash over him, accepting hugs and brushing hands as he made his way around the house to the backyard.

“Boyd said he was gonna kick our butts at football, but I said there was no way,” Jasper said, tugging him along. “You’ll be on our team, right?”

“That’s not fair, Jasper, I want him on our team!” Penny said, attaching herself to Derek’s waist.

“We’ll sort it out later,” Derek said. “Let me say hello to the birthday girl first.” He extricated himself from Penny and took Stiles’ hand. He spotted Marissa by the swingset and headed in that direction.

They stopped by Cora’s chair on the way, and Derek couldn’t resist resting a hand on her extended stomach as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Not long now.”

“Feels like forever,” she grumbled, but rubbed her baby bump affectionately.

Derek gave Michael a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and continued toward the heart of the pack.

Marissa ran up to them and flung herself at Stiles. “You came!”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Stiles said. Stiles and Marissa had become fast friends. Not only were they humans, far outnumbered by wolves, but Marissa showed an aptitude for elemental magic, much like Stiles. He was teaching her not only how to use it, but how to appreciate her strengths instead of focusing on her weaknesses.

“Is that for me?” She said, tugging at the fountain of purple tissue paper.

“No, it’s for Cedric,” Stiles teased.

“No gifts yet,” Laura said as she approached. “Go put it on the table.”

Marissa sighed dramatically but she took the gift over to the rapidly filling picnic table.  
“Hello,Alpha,” Derek said, showing his throat.

“Hi, Der,” she brushed his throat affectionately then hugged him, rubbing her nose against his neck. She left her arm around his shoulders as she turned to Stiles. “How did it go with the Rogers pack?”

“Fine,” Stiles shrugged. “Wasn’t really a big deal, just a quick binding spell.”

Derek snorted. “Right, because binding the leader of a dark coven is practically a party trick.”

Laura laughed and teased, “Oh, yes, since he’s our simple little spark who dabbles in magic when his research is done. It’s not like he’s considered the most powerful witch on the west coast.”

Stiles snorted. “Not my fault so many people exaggerate.”

“Uh-huh,” Laura said. “Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

Derek ducked out from under her grasp. Laura and Stiles had found a comfortable banter that could go on for hours if left unchecked, and he had other people to see.

He waved to Peter and his father on his way to the back porch and stopped briefly when Erica tackled him before reaching his destination. “Hi, Mom,” he said.

“It’s good to see you,” Talia said, standing to hug him. 

He breathed in her familiar scent and sighed. “It’s good to be back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has commented, subscribed, and kudo’d it really means a lot to me! The amount of support I’ve gotten for this fic has been unbelievable!
> 
> Finally, thank you to my beta [ChloeWeird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWeird). I literally could not and _would_ not have done any of this without her.
> 
> ETA:  
> Welp. Now what? I worked really hard on something, spent hours of my time trying to do it justice and my worst nightmare came true. Most of you hated it. I agonized over the characters, I debated whether to just leave it open or show how I really thought it would go, and I rewrote dozens of times and still, it wasn’t good enough. I felt that Derek loves his family and they love him, and how in reality, most people don't just walk away. There try and make it work, even when it's hard.
> 
> I’m not going to take it down, because I love this fic. But I’m heartbroken. I am devastated. 
> 
> If you don’t like my fic, please don’t tell me. I really don’t want to know. I write because it makes me happy, I share it, because usually that makes me happy too. Today is not a happy day.
> 
> ETA Oct 4, 2017:  
> Since this fic finished posting it had become one of the most commented on fics that I have written. Most of those comments have been very supportive, and for that, I am very thankful for. I have written several fics since I wrote this and for a while, I wanted to ignore this one completely, but I think that I’m stronger now (and maybe a bit more jaded) and I’m proud of the work I put into it.
> 
> One of the most common things people have said is that they were reading through my bibliography, or don’t comment very often, but felt they really HAD to comment on this one because of the note I left. If you are one of those people, I would kindly ask: comment on one of the other fics! I’ve had some very insightful comments here and there's not much more for me to consider, but I would love to hear how you enjoyed or were impacted by one of the other fics. Of course, comments are welcome here, but if it's a choice between this one or that one, maybe pick that one?
> 
> Regardless of whether or not you comment at all, thank you for reading!


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